


Ocean Master of None

by corrielikesstory (corriegarrett)



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Angst, Arkham Asylum, Bruce Wayne is Batman, DC Comics References, DCEU Fanworks Exchange, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff, Hostage Situations, Orm Needs A Hug, Regret, Romance, Superheroes, Suspense, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-03-30 23:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19037590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corriegarrett/pseuds/corrielikesstory
Summary: Orm Marius has been released on the surface, with conditions. The tracker embedded in his ankle and whatever Arthur said to his friend Bruce are supposed to keep him in check. And they are... to an extent. Orm is biding his time until things in Atlantis change, because it is unthinkable that he will remain on the surface forever. There is no life for him here, no satisfaction... nothing to achieve or become. Or is there...When real estate agent Erin Shaw realizes the men viewing the apartment are escaped convicts, she's scared. And when her son shows up at just the wrong moment, she's terrified. Orm was in the mood for a fight anyway, and when the woman staggers out of the apartment with a bruise on her cheek, reminding him hauntingly of his mother, he steps into her world without looking back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting on here...! I saw Aquaman a couple weeks ago and Jason Momoa was cool and all, but Patrick Wilson totally rocked Prince Orm/Ocean Master! I was invested in the character from the start, and since I was pulling teeth with my other stories, I decided to get the writing flowing with some Ocean Master fanfiction. I borrowed Erin Shaw and some of the others from DC comics.

Ocean Master of None

Orm was known at the gym now, after so many weeks, and none of the regulars spoke to him unless necessary. Sometimes a new guy would blink at the weight he was pulling on a machine or frown that he was lifting without a spotter. Sometimes they tried to start a conversation. Orm ignored them.

He also ignored the mirrors, as much as possible. He had no great desire to look at himself, a sun-burnt husk of the king he had once been, and he despised the tiny glowing jewel embedded above his ankle, allowing his brother to track his every movement.

Sometimes he watched the flat screen TV in the cardio room. Terrestrial politics were so…muddy. No purity of purpose or plan. Today there was something about a prison break and mugshots were put up on screen for the populace to watch out for. Orm ought to be grateful he wasn’t still in prison, and sometimes, on good days, he was. Today however…

Orm worked out his frustration and anger on the equipment, on the punching bags, and on the mat with the one trainer who was willing to work with him. The man was an expert in Brazilian jiujitsu and several other forms of human combat.

Orm had surrendered to his brother when they fought above the waves, but it would never happen again. Orm was honorable – he would not harm Arthur without further provocation. But if it ever came to a fight again, and Orm was tolerably certain that it would, he would no longer be handicapped by the strangeness of fighting on the surface.

Today, Orm grappled with his trainer during their session, trying to perfect the latest take-down Julio had taught him. Sweat soaked his hair and stung his eyes with a familiar sort of pain. Away from the ocean for so long, his eyes were no longer accustomed to salt.

Orm got Julio to the mat, but the man slid sideways like a snake before Orm could get his forearm up under his chin. With a massive effort, using hips and shoulders more than arms and hands, Julio flipped him and got a knee on Orm’s back.

Orm grunted.

Julio released him. “You’re off today. Distracted.”

“Maybe.”

“Problems? If you want to talk, you’ve earned my attention.”

Orm grabbed a towel and rubbed his forehead. “Today’s the… anniversary of something I’d rather forget.” A year. A year since Mera betrayed him. A year since Arthur defeated him. A year since his crushing defeat.

Julio waited, but Orm didn’t elaborate.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, man. Don’t forget to stay hydrated. Hot out.” Julio went on his way and Orm went to the men’s locker room to shower off before going home.

Surface dwellers, humans, surrounded him as he walked the few blocks to his apartment. At this hour, they were going home from work or school mostly, eyes down, either on the pavement or their phones. The sun beat down on the pavement, and on his own shoulders, a solid weight of heat laid on the city like a blanket. Water bottles were sipped, shirts were sweat-stained, even the children walked slowly and wearily like turtles under their heavy packs.

He slipped thankfully into the cool lobby of his building.

His temporary home was on the top floor of a high-rise complex in New York. Orm was self-aware enough to admit that the height made the apartment more emotionally acceptable than it would otherwise have been. In Atlantis, there was a rough correlation of depth and poverty, and he appreciated that Arthur, or more probably his mother, had been trying to ease the transition of his banishment.

While he’d been imprisoned, Mera had auctioned a few rare, perfect pearls and set up a bank account for him.

It was all so damned thoughtful. It would have been so simple if they’d locked him away in prison… so simple to maintain his rage and resentment, his purpose and prejudice.

He slapped the button for the elevators and only as he stepped in did he realize that one of the kids from the street had shadowed him and slipped on behind him.

Orm didn’t remember seeing this kid before, but that didn’t mean much. There were a lot of people in this building.

The kid clutched a yellow magazine in his hands, a National Geographic Oceans edition. Orm’s lips twisted into a half smile. If only all the humans were so interested in saving the ocean. But for all their conservation talk, and he’d heard a lot in the last five months, it didn’t look to him like systematic change would be coming any time soon.

The surface world was too fragmented, too splintered. Even if a few countries wanted to stop polluting the ocean, what good would they do? He clenched his fist.

Consolidation of power. Kingdoms united. Unstoppable armies.

He had been close to real change.

He relaxed his fist, seeing the little boy’s big brown eyes flick up to him warily.

Now, instead of leading an army, he was in a tiny box with a tiny human and a tiny jewel in his ankle that controlled his coming and going.

“My favorite shark is the goblin shark.” The boy turned the magazine to show him a picture of it. “How about you?”

Orm sighed. “Great white.”

“Did you know sharks pee through their skin?”

A surprised laugh escaped him. Orm ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not exactly… it’s not what you’re picturing. They clear their body of toxins through their skin, but its gradual, like sweat.”

“That’s cool. If you were going to lose a foot or a hand to a shark which would you choose?”

Orm raised an eyebrow. “Neither. A shark wouldn’t dare.”

The boy grinned at this.

The elevator dinged at the top floor, and Orm got off. The boy came too.

“Are you following me, kid?” Orm asked.

“My mom is up here. She’s got an open house till 7.”

Orm didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t much care. He was used to shrugging off incomprehensible comments from humans.

One of the apartment doors was propped open, golden light spilling into the somewhat dim hallway. The boy went toward that one, waving goodbye, and Orm would have passed on, but a woman staggered out the door. Her hand was pressed to the side of her face, imperfectly covering up a large, reddening mark. Her glasses were slightly askew and her lip was bleeding.

“Mom!” The little boy ran the last few steps to her.

Her eyes got even wider when she saw him. She wrenched herself upright and took in her son and Orm in a flash. “Th- thanks for bringing Tommy up. I’m with someone right now. Can you wait for me in the lobby?”

With her hands she was turning Tommy around and pushing him back toward the elevator. With her eyes she was clearly begging Orm to take him away.

Orm knew what a woman in trouble looked like. She reminded him of his mother, for a moment, though Atlanna, with her tough Atlantean skin, rarely bled when she was struck.

He faced the doorway, eyeing the three large men who were now hovering in the entryway. The closest of them, a hulking man in a suit, held a phone in a purple plastic case.

Tommy stumbled over his own feet. “Why does that guy have your phone? Why are you bleeding?”

“I—tripped. Go.” She licked the blood off her lip. Looking back for a moment, she seemed to make some decision. With sudden ferocity, she scooped up her son and ran to the elevators. The men inside jerked forward and Orm stepped forward to block the doorway.

Guns came out, and the big one used his shoulder to shove past Orm. Or at least, that is what he meant to do. Orm was more solid than a normal human his size, and he shoved back. The man, hitting a surprisingly immovable object, brought up his weapon. Still in close proximity, Orm grabbed his wrist. First he wrenched it sideways to dislodge the gun, then twisted the man around into a headlock. This also effectively blocked the other two men’s shots, since they’d be forced to shoot through their comrade to hit Orm.

A quick glance confirmed that the woman had ducked into the emergency stairwell next to the elevator and that they were both gone.

“Do you know who I am?” the man choked out. “I run security for this building. Let me go.”

“Do you?” Orm tightened his arm. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” 

The other two men, also well-dressed, but with the indefinable quality of predators, took a few steps forward. He’d seen their faces. Only this morning, in the line-up of escaped convicts.

Orm muscled the first man further into the apartment, and then kicked the door shut behind him.

The predators hesitated in surprise, and Orm smiled.

 

Nearly an hour after running down two-flights, then taking an elevator to the lobby, then calling the police, Erin went back up to the top floor. The police had gone up alone, and only just now declared the floor clear of threats. No one else was being allowed up, but the police had asked her to come up and give a statement.

Erin stood in the doorway of the luxury apartment, gingerly holding an icepack to her cheek. It was a wreck, like a tsunami had gone through. Her carefully staged furniture (thankfully insured) was ripped and overturned. At least two side tables were completely crushed. There were shards of glass on the floor, bullet holes in the walls, and blood spatters… everywhere. The security chief (former!) and one of the convicts had been taken out on gurneys, not even handcuffed because they were obviously incapable of walking on broken legs. The second convict had been mobile, but not in much better shape.

There had been a fight. A colossal fight. The police had checked every apartment on this floor—for injured bystanders, witnesses, or more criminals—and had found some rattled people, but not the blond guy who’d come up with Tommy.

A policeman drew her back into the hallway.

“Now, you work real estate. You were showing this apartment today?”

“Yes. The owner had several offers but wanted to drum up more, in hope of a bidding war. Marcus,” she stumbled a little, “the security guy, I’ve met now and then, he brought up these two guys. That wasn’t totally unusual, but normally he would head right back down…I should have realized something was off. They were acting a little odd, but I tried to give them some space to look around. I opened my phone, just to kill time, you know? And I saw their faces on my news app.” Erin shook her head. “I was so stupid. I should have just closed it and walked away. But I couldn’t quite believe it. I still had my phone in my hand when they walked back in, and my face must have… They started to close in on me and I tried to call 911. Marcus hit me and got the phone.”

“And then your son…”

“Right. I’d told Tommy to come here after school… I was terrified when I saw him. I tried to push him away. There was a man who’d come up at the same time—I told the policemen about him already—and I think he stepped into the doorway as I ran away… but I didn’t really see. I wasn’t taking time to look back.”

They asked her more about this guy, but she didn’t have much. He was just telling her she could press charges against Marcus for assault when his radio barked, and he brought it up. “Yes?”

“The building super knows the guy. He gave us the apartment number. Looked at the records. The unit is privately owned, no name listed in the housing application.”

“No name? What does it say?”

“Looks like it was bought by a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises.”

The policeman frowned. “Alright. Ms. Shaw, you’re free to go. We’ll get in touch if we have more questions.”

“Can I have my phone back?”

“It was collected as evidence, but if nothing else comes up, you can retrieve it in a few days.” He rummaged on the papers and pulled out an evidence receipt with a description of the phone and evidence number. “Hang onto this.”

As Erin walked away, she heard the police speculating. “You think this John Doe was in on the Arkham breakout… and it went sideways? Maybe this was the meet-up spot?”

“Weird spot. Though clearly the security guy was in it. Maybe he was going to pull strings to get them this place.”

“But where does John Doe come in? Did they renege on a deal maybe?”

“This kind of violence is more like a statement. Maybe a warning.”

Erin couldn’t hear any more as the elevator doors slid shut.

Tommy was waiting for her in the lobby, reading his National Geographic magazine again. He loved those things.

“You hungry? I think we deserve burgers.”

He looked up with a smile. If her face looked as huge and throbbing as it felt, he didn’t react to it. She was devoutly thankful that he hadn’t realized how dangerous those few moments had been. He’d been scared and confused, but by the time he’d realized how scared she was, they were on their way down, and she’d been able to pull some super-human mom vibes and calmly explain that there were some mean men up there that the cops would deal with.

As they walked to the end of the block, headed to the nearest McDonalds, they passed a narrow alley. They weren’t in a bad part of town, quite the opposite, but Erin was more than a little rattled, and when Tommy suddenly broke away and darted into the shadows her heart skipped a beat.

“Tommy!” She darted after him. It was still oppressively hot, even in the shadows.

A man was leaning against the wall, not far down, looking at his phone. Tommy went right up to him. “It’s you! Shark guy. Are you okay? My mom said those were some serious bad guys.”

If she doubted her son’s identification skills, the man’s deep-set eyes, white-blond hair, and stern face, flecked with blood, immediately confirmed it. She hadn’t done a great job describing him to the police, but seeing him up close, she knew she’d never forget his face.

But that didn’t mean she was glad to see him. Yes, he’d apparently beaten the heck out of those men, allowing her and Tommy time to escape, but she was not at all sure that that wasn’t just a coincidence. The cops hadn’t bothered to ask if he was just an innocent do-gooder. His take-down was too extreme. Was he part of some criminal organization, like they thought? Would she and Tommy have been next, if she hadn’t run?

But… as he slowly looked from Tommy to her and a faint smile curved his lips (good grief, his lips could have come from a Greek god)… she didn’t believe that he would have hurt them.

Instead of jerking Tommy away, she settled for gently tugging him backward. He didn’t have much sense of personal space.

“I didn’t get to thank you,” Erin said, simply. “I know it wasn’t for us… but you certainly helped us get away. Thanks.”

His brow furrowed.

“We won’t bother you anymore,” Erin added. He might be good-natured toward women and kids, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t part of a rival gang or criminal underworld. No need to push their luck. “Thanks again.”

“It was no problem.” His mellow baritone voice was not what she expected. “Those kinds of criminals shouldn’t be free in any society based on order and law.”

“True… and, uh, well-said. We’ll leave you to…” she gestured vaguely at his phone and firmly took Tommy’s hand to lead him away.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Tommy asked. “Since your apartment is locked up now?”

Erin squeezed his hand tightly, already her hand was sweating where it gripped Tommy’s. “I’m sure he’s fine. They’ll have to reopen the floor any time now.” Of course, if he went back, the cops would definitely have questions for him. But if he didn’t want to talk to the cops, that wasn’t her problem.

Was it? Was he really just a Good Samaritan type who’d beat the crap out of those guys because they were violent escaped criminals? Because they threatened her?

Erin winced. She was far from endorsing Tommy’s invitation, but she felt she ought to do something. “We’re about to go get dinner. Would you like to come? It’s my treat. The least I can do.”

He looked down at his phone again, and then slipped it in his pocket. “Yes, I will accompany you. I need some water.”

“Don’t we all in this heat! My name is Erin Shaw.” She held out her hand and he shook it. His hand was cool and dry and very strong. She ignored the bruises around his knuckles.

“Orm Marius.”

 

Orm had enjoyed the fight, enjoyed the chance to release his frustration on real enemies, real bodies. But he’d realized quickly that he’d made some complications for himself. He was supposed to keep a low profile, and this was not it. He didn’t relish the thought of having his land rights revoked and heading back to the Atlantean prison ward.

So he’d surreptitiously exited a window, climbed down to an untenanted apartment several floors below, and waited until the furor died down. After that it was not too hard to exit unnoticed. He’d texted the number he was supposed to dial if anything ever went wrong. So far, no answer.

At the restaurant, clearly a children’s establishment, he declined supper and asked only for a drink. With the cup, he went over and filled it with water, draining and refilling it several times before he felt right. With the exertion of the fight, the wait in the alley, and the heat, he was definitely dehydrated, which happened to him all too easily.

Erin came to fill her own drink and eyed him uneasily. “You alright? That’s a lot of water.”

“If you’re checking for injuries, I assure you I am fine. I need more water than the average man.”

“Okay. But you have to eat something more than water. I bought several extra meals- just pick whichever looks good.”

It was strange to sit at a small table with them, ostensibly a family unit to anyone looking on. Erin kept touching Tommy’s head, stroking his hair, and rubbing his back. He wondered if it was for Tommy’s comfort or her own. Her face wasn’t noticeably swollen, but her cracked lip bulged a bit, and the tension in her shoulders and neck spoke of discomfort and pain.

Tommy told his mom about their conversation on the elevator and she smiled unevenly at Orm. “He sure loves the ocean. He’s always telling me about the latest fish he’s read about, or eel, or whale.”

Orm turned to Tommy and quizzed him. “Fastest sea creature? Largest? Most deadly?”

Tommy grinned and returned the answers. He added a few of his own, like the toughest, “those worm things that live at the edge of lava vents!” and grossest, “Blobfish, for sure.”

Erin was starting to relax. But Orm noticed that her hand was still not entirely steady as she helped herself to a few more fries.

Tommy chattered on. “Did you know that narwhals are the basis of the unicorn legend? And manatees are the basis for mermaids?”

Orm stiffened a bit and then, he couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Those would be some stocky, strange-looking mermaids.”

Erin smiled too. “I know. I said the same thing. Those must have been some desperate sailors who mistook them for beautiful women.”

Tommy shrugged. “But now they’re saying there’s really something down there, you know? With the trash and those ships that disappeared.”

Orm looked sharply at Tommy. He was oblivious, but Erin had hesitated with her burger near her mouth, before taking a bite and, if he was not mistaken, spending longer than necessary to swallow and sip her water.

But all she said was, “Almost done, Tommy?”

“Yeah. Orm, do you need a place to stay? We have a futon in the office.”

“What’s a futon?” Orm asked.

Tommy’s eyes got big at this display of ignorance and then he was explaining. When Tommy went to use the restroom, Orm looked at Erin. “Honestly, I would rather not explain myself to the police. If I could stay with you until I hear back from my… brother, I would appreciate it.” The word brother choked him a little, but there was no reason to explain further. He could stay in a nearby hotel, perhaps, but he wondered if the police would be looking for men of his description doing just that.

And Erin and Tommy were… appealing. Tommy was just a child, curious and enthusiastic, and Erin was… interesting. She had poise and resilience, that was obvious. She was smart, and kind, and trying very hard to appear at ease. But every time someone walked into the restaurant, she turned to look and every time someone dropped their bag on the floor she jumped. Orm found himself wanting to reassure her, but why would she accept reassurance from him? He was a stranger to her and, if she only knew it, by far the most dangerous person she would come across today.

 

Erin gulped a little more water. In this day and age, a woman did not simply let a strange man stay in her home. On the other hand, he’d undoubtedly been a hero today (a scarily violent hero), and he was being a good sport with Tommy’s ocean obsession, which spoke of a good nature.

And, oddly enough, she felt safe with him. She was totally on edge, jumpy and distracted, but even as she kept checking over her shoulder, she had the comforting conviction that Orm could and would deal with any problems that came their way.

Orm cleared his throat. “Never mind. It’s fine. You don’t know me and—”

“It’s not that,” she broke in. “Well, it is that. But more because you… you decimated those men today. That’s… unnerving.”

Orm nodded. “As it should be. I could perhaps tell you that I am not invariably violent, but you would only have my word for it.”

Erin bobbed her head from side to side. “The cops really thought… They were certain that you must have known them.”

“I did not know them.” Orm’s jaw clenched for a moment. “I will admit that I was in the mood for a fight today. It was…” he laughed darkly. “Today was the anniversary of, hopefully, the worst day of my life.”

 

Erin grimaced sympathetically and Orm found himself finally saying it out loud. “I thought I could accomplish something great… something that might change the world. But instead… I only started a pointless conflict, and then lost. Not just me, but everyone who followed me.”

Erin bit her lip. “I’m guessing you don’t mean that they lost their jobs or something?”

He shook his head. “The worst of it is, I’m not sure that even my original goal was… right. So I don’t even have the satisfaction of going down for a noble cause. It was… ugly.”

“Sounds like a hell of a year.”

“Indeed. It also happens that today that my former fiancé is marrying my brother.”

Her eyes widened.

“So, to use a phrase I’ve heard at the gym, I was not in a good headspace.”

She laughed in surprise, as Orm had hoped she would, but then covered her mouth. “Sorry, shouldn’t laugh. That’s awful.”

Orm relented. “That part is not as bad as it sounds. Mera and I had already grown apart. We were more committed for… family sake.”

“And she fell in love with your brother?”

“Half-brother.”

Erin sucked air through her teeth. “Ouch. Is that the brother you were texting earlier?”

“Yes. I suspect he, and my mother, are distracted.”

“I bet.”

Tommy came back from the bathroom, and Orm stood to say goodbye, but Erin surprised him. “You’re welcome to stay with us. Until… as long as you need.”

 

Erin didn’t think of her second-floor apartment as small. She was quite proud of the three-bedroom place that she managed to maintain on one salary. Really it was too big for her and Tommy, but as a real estate agent, she’d managed to snag it at the perfect time and price.

It wasn’t small by any standards, but when Orm walked in, it suddenly was. Messy, too. She quickly tidied up the worst of it while he went to the kitchen and, with her permission, helped himself to a glass of water and drained it three times.

She retrieved sheets for the futon, supervised Tommy’s bedtime, and remained fully aware of Orm at all times. He was no problem. He sat on the couch and closed his eyes for a while, and then sighed and stood, looking at her bookshelf and photos before going back to the kitchen for more water.

It wasn’t that he was threatening or difficult, but his presence in the room just felt so… off. If the Queen of England or Prime Minister of Canada had come to visit, she imagined it would feel like this. His manners were perfect, but it felt like he’d be more at home in a palace or castle, a grand rotunda or capitol. Just not here.

On the other hand, while his presence was strange, she felt safe. Maybe she shouldn’t trust her gut on this, but she didn’t have much else to go on. Her hands had stopped trembling, and even a loud clunk in the hallway (probably her neighbor taking out the trash) didn’t make her jerk in alarm.

“Can Orm read my bedtime story?” Tommy asked.

“I… I don’t mind. But remember, he’s just here for a little while,” Erin said. She hadn’t thought about it yet, but of course Tommy would hero-worship the man. It hurt her heart that Tommy was so dad-deprived, but there wasn’t much she could do about this tonight.

Orm pulled Tommy’s desk stool over and sat on it, then opened the book Tommy gave him, “Hooray for Fish.”

Erin hovered in the doorway. Orm seemed like an okay guy, but she wasn’t going to leave him alone with her son yet. When he was done, she turned off the light and then went to the kitchen to rummage in her medicine cabinet for a pain killer.

“Do you want some Tylenol? Aspirin? Ibuprofen?” Erin asked. “You must be hurting by now.”

Orm gave that small smile he had, barely more than a tightening of the eyes. “No, I’m fine.”

“Nothing? I’ve got a muscle relaxant in here somewhere. Helps with soreness…”

“No, thank you. You should ice your face again, though.” Orm placed his hand over her cheek and Erin froze. His hand was cold and welcome against her feverish, scraped skin, but…

“Yeah, I will.” Erin turned away to gulp down some medicine and found the ice gel pack in her freezer.

“You keep one ready?” Orm asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Usually for Tommy. The kid has to test every solid object with his face, I swear.” Erin removed to the living room and perched on the edge of the couch.

“Where is his father?”

Erin stilled. “No offense, but we don’t know each other that well. I’m not really into telling my life story—”

Orm nodded. “None taken.”

“Are you… where are you from?” His English was perfect, but his responses, his word choice, his cadence—it was all a little different.

Now it was his turn to hesitate, though he looked almost as if he was teasing her. “If we’re not sharing our life stories….”

“Fair enough.” Erin shook her head. “I think I need to go to bed early. I am beat.” She also needed some space from him. Orm was too… mesmerizing. If she sat here much longer, she would be telling him her life story. And while she was more emotionally mature than Tommy, she knew she could grow too attached almost as quickly as him.

 

The next morning, Orm woke before Erin or Tommy. He folded up his things, washed his face, and went to the kitchen to make coffee. He’d noted a coffeemaker on her counter, and coffee was one of the human beverages he approved of.

He felt fine this morning, but she would probably have some lingering aches and pains, and coffee would probably be welcome. He had not meant to touch her face last night, or rather, had not considered it before he did it. For a moment, when she’d leaned into the coolness of his hand, he’d felt… something.

Feeling a million miles from his home in Atlantis, Orm rummaged in her cupboards and found the coffee and filters. A wry smile worked its way out as he started it. From a throne to a homely kitchen—would anyone in Atlantis believe where he was now? Probably they thought the great King Orm would be above such lowly chores. But he wasn’t above anyone anymore, and if he wanted something warm to drink, it was up to him. There was a simplicity to living up here alone, unanchored, and unknown.

His phone finally buzzed, and Orm went back into the office where he’d slept.

“You really stepped in it now, huh?” Arthur’s voice, loud and boisterous, made Orm grimace.

“Yes.”

“Well, I talked to Bruce already and he’s gonna try to smooth it out. You had to pick our wedding day, did you?” There was a rueful, half-apologetic tone to Arthur’s voice, Orm realized with surprise. Did Arthur still pity Orm for Mera’s betrayal?

Orm’s lip curled with disgust. “It had nothing to do with that. There were some escaped convicts in my apartment building. I dealt with it.”

“And helped some lady and her kid get out, right? That’s what the police report said. Good for you.”

“Good for me?”

“Yeah. You did a good thing. Did ya think I would drag you back here for being a good citizen?”

That was exactly what Orm had thought. He was granted leniency to live up here on the surface with the understanding that he keep a low-profile, and, obviously, that he not wage war on any humans. Orm wasn’t used to thinking in shades of gray; it was not something Orvax encouraged.

Arthur continued, as if the question were rhetorical. “The only thing is, Bruce is gonna plant some evidence that the Batman was involved in the brawl. That’ll get the heat off of you, but it’ll burn your presence there. You’ll have to find somewhere else to stay. Maybe I could—”

“Arthur. I am not a child; you do not have to hold my hand. I will handle my living arrangements for as long as needed. I merely called to be the first to inform you of my… infraction.”

“Dude. I really don’t understand you sometimes.”

Orm bit back an acid comment about Arthur not understanding anything to do with self-discipline or honor. Arthur was his king now.

“Very well. Is that all?” Orm asked.

“I guess.” There was muffled speaking—Mera?—and Arthur’s voice answering, “How should I know? He sounds okay.” More muffled questions. “It’s a phone, not a mood ring,” Arthur said. “And I can’t read Orm’s face when I’m looking at him, let alone when I’m—never mind. Orm, forget all that. I’ll be in touch next week.”

They didn’t waste time on awkward goodbyes.

Mera and Arthur must already be on their honeymoon with the Fishermen kingdom (mending bridges). The Fishermen’s new Queen Scales had offered to host them. Orm felt a little cold remembering his murder of her father, King Ricou. It felt necessary and justified, but now…in his memory of the event, his image seemed to flicker between his own and his father’s. Orm shook his head. He was a violent man, a warrior, but that slaughter of the old man… it was beneath him. It was dishonorable.

Orm rubbed his eyes and went back to see if the coffee was done. What did surprise him this morning was that the mental image of Arthur and Mera on their honeymoon was merely amusing. Whatever lingering resentment he’d felt toward her had finally evaporated.

If she could be happy with Arthur, and clearly she was, she and Orm would not have suited well at all. It still seemed odd that she’d fallen for such a bear of a man. She was every inch a Xebel royal; powerful, reserved, intelligent, and cold.

At least, that was how he’d thought of her. He’d known she had passion, a fire he’d seen when they were still children and teens. But it had slowly been locked away, and he hadn’t blamed her for that. It was only self-preservation to learn to hide your deepest feelings.

Orm had planned that their marriage would be very different than his parents’. Respectful, most of all, because he did respect her. Affectionate and kind on his part, and hopefully on hers. He laughed grimly as he found a mug. He’d been wrong about that. She had indeed learned to hide her true feelings.

She wanted his barbarian of a half-brother. Arthur was the opposite of her: informal, unwashed, uninhibited, and brash. But Orm had seen them together more than once over the last year, and Mera was completely in love with him.

Orm heard small feet behind him, and found Tommy looking up at him sleepily. “It’s Saturday, so we can watch Netflix. I know how to turn it on.”

“Do you? Then you know something I do not. Do show me.”

 

Erin hadn’t meant to sleep in like this. Good grief, she had a house guest, and it was nearly nine o’clock! Her phone… oh, right. Her phone with its alarm was still in police custody.

She dressed quickly and made her way to the living room. Orm and Tommy were slouched on the couch, watching Tommy’s favorite Planet Earth documentary. A leopard seal was chasing a penguin toward the ice shelf.

“They always make the predators seem mean,” Tommy was saying. “But my mom says that’s just for the drama and seals have to eat, too.”

“Very true. Apex predators are rarely loved.”

They both had small cups of dry cereal in their hands. That was the “breakfast” Tommy was allowed to get himself before she woke up, since there had been several incidents with the milk carton lately.

“I’m up,” Erin said, feeling a little awkward. “I can make some real food now. I should have told you that you’re welcome to whatever.”

Orm stood up. “Good morning, Erin.”

“Good morning,” Erin said, bemused at his formality. “Breakfast?”

“If it’s no trouble. I made coffee.”

“I smell that, thanks.”

He followed her back to the kitchen and Erin ran her hand through her tangled blonde hair. The coffee gave her something to do with her hands.

“Hey, I just realized that without my phone, none of my friends or boss can get in touch with me. I must have been really out of it last night not to realize. Can I use your phone?”

Orm hesitated.

“Just a call or two I need to make. Did you find the charger in the office?”

“I did. Yes, of course, I’ll go get it.”

Erin made breakfast and then took his phone, when he’d unlocked it, to call and make sure no one thought she was dead.

She didn’t snoop on his phone, but it was odd. He had only the most basic apps. No email account. No Facebook or other social media. When she got into the phone app, she saw that there was only one number under contacts, and that number had only been called once in the last six months, and that was yesterday. (So maybe she was snooping a little!)

That kind of isolation was weird, right? Sure, some people enjoyed being all superior about staying off social media, but they usually still had email and… friends. Maybe this was some kind of burner phone? She only knew the words from movies, but then, it was a nice iPhone, so that didn’t make sense.

Erin scolded herself and made her calls.

Thankfully, none of her friends (or worse, her mom) knew what had happened yesterday, so they should be fine for another few days. Her boss was more than a little exasperated with her. He’d been informed of what went down (“Not by you, I might add!”), and that the apartment sale had to be put on hold during the investigation. But his exasperation was largely based on worry for her, and when he found out she was fine, he relaxed. Erin offered to come in that afternoon, but he gave a flat no. “Take it easy. I’ll reassign the open house in Brooklyn to Stephen, and deal with the ones tomorrow myself. You don’t do anything work-related until Monday.”

Her weekends were usually pretty busy—since that was the best time for lots of people to visit new property—but she felt she owed Tommy (and maybe herself) a break. “Okay, thanks, Alex. But if we get any offers on the Brooklyn place—”

Tommy ran in to ask for juice, and Orm was right behind him. “I can get it for him.”

“Thanks,” Erin said, following them back toward the kitchen.

“Is that… do you have someone over?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. Anyway, Brooklyn…” They talked shop for a few minutes, but she could tell Alex was still thinking about who was there. He’d asked her out a couple times, but not recently, and she was pretty sure he was unsure about suddenly having a young son.

Orm poured juice for Tommy, and more water for himself.

Alex took a steadying breath. “Do you need any help this morning? Do you need to go into the police station or anything? I could watch Tommy for you.”

Orm looked up at her, raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself.

Erin grinned at him. “That’s really nice of you, Alex. But I think I’ll be fine.”

“I could—”

“I’m good. Bye, Alex.”

Orm took the phone back and pocketed it. “At the risk of being repetitive, do you need to go to the police station?”

“Actually yes, I do, but Tommy can come with me. I’m sure you have things to do. You don’t even have a change of clothes.”

Orm looked down at himself. “That’s true.”

“Did you hear from your brother yet?”

Orm explained that he had, and while he didn’t at all ask to extend his stay, Erin was feeling a little reckless. “Well, of course you can stay until you hear from him next week. It’s no problem.”

“Thank you.”

For the rest of the day, running errands, retrieving her phone, spending time with Tommy at Central Park, Erin felt a slight glow. She told herself it was just enjoyment of a free weekend. She told herself it was probably an endorphin reaction to the stress of yesterday. She told herself it wasn’t because Orm put her number in his phone so that they might meet up at the park before going home for dinner.

She was told herself to be careful.

She was not entirely listening.

 

Orm used some of his spare cash to get clothes, and some to buy groceries to restock Erin’s supplies. She was pleasantly surprised when they returned to her house in the evening, and he assured her it was the least he could do to repay her hospitality.

All week, Orm lived in a sort of limbo, wondering how he had fallen into Erin and Tommy’s lives. Wondering why it felt as if he fit into their lives. Surely such a thing was most unlikely.

He had lived on the surface for the past five months, but now it seemed that he had merely existed. Now he had begun a new kind of life, and he… enjoyed it. It was easier to press aside frustration and regret when Tommy was asking him if he’d been to the Great Barrier Reef (yes), and if he’d surfed there (no), and if he thought mantas or dolphins were better (mantas, dolphins could be right jerks).

It was easier to forget the destiny he was meant for when Erin thanked him profusely for spending two days replacing her old, cracked sink and food disposal for new ones. The work wasn’t complicated, but it was time-consuming and required attention and more than a few viewings of the videos he found on YouTube (which Erin had suggested he download to his phone).

It was easier to forget the betrayal of those close to him, when these two showed every day that they enjoyed his company, that they appreciated his presence.

It wasn’t a perfect fit, of course. Every now and then, Erin would get this disbelieving look on her face, as she suddenly remembered that she’d invited a stranger into their lives. And every now and then, usually when Tommy hugged him goodnight or something like that, she looked positively stricken, and more than a little guilty. She seemed to trust him, but she also never left Tommy alone with him, always using his regular baby-sitters when she needed someone to watch him after school.

He probably should have left already. It was clear she was afraid of Tommy getting attached to him and being hurt when he left. She should be scared of that, but… Orm selfishly allowed himself to stay.

It was a week before he went back to the gym. Julio raised his eyebrows. “Long time, man. I thought maybe you were ghosting us.”

Orm worked out on his own for a while, and later on the mat with Julio.

“There was a man here asking about you,” Julio told him. “We didn’t tell him nada, but thought you should know.”

“When?” Orm grunted.

“Saturday? No, must have been Sunday. Didn’t know your name, but described you pretty good.”

That didn’t sound good, and when Orm left the gym, he was fairly certain he was being followed. No one raised in Atlantis could mistake the feeling of being hunted. The Trench was too near for fools, and every child knew to keep his eyes open and his senses alert. Orm felt his own senses heightening in response. Each leaf that drifted from a tree caused a slight breeze and landed with a scrape on the sidewalk. Each tire that squealed left a smell of burnt rubber. The aroma of the street vendor’s hot dogs mingled with this woman’s perfume and that man’s cigarette. By the time he’d gotten near Erin’s building, he’d identified the unchanging element, a man in some kind of messenger uniform who hung half a block behind but never veered off.

Orm turned abruptly into a corner market and looked over the gum, but with his senses trained outside. When the tail finally came forward, to peek surreptitiously in the window and check that Orm was inside, Orm shoved the swinging door open and grabbed the guy’s arm.

“What do you want?”

The man was strong for a human, very strong. He twisted his wiry forearm out of Orm’s grip and Orm let him, because he had the feeling the man wouldn’t run away.

“Orm Marius?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“My boss would like a word with you. He’d like to offer you a deal. Possibly a job.”

“And your boss is…?”

A shiny, black van pulled up to the curb. Orm rolled his eyes. And Arthur accused him of being dramatic.

The side door opened, and a man in a suit stepped out. “I don’t expect that you’ll know my name, but I certainly know yours. Orm Marius. Ocean Master.”

Orm didn’t blink or flinch, though he did feel a slight sinking within his stomach, as of a dive taken too fast. “And?”

“You took down three men recently, didn’t seem to break a sweat, and disappeared before the police arrived. Knowing who you are and what you’re capable of, I’d like to offer you a position. I can pay well for what I need.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“What about independence? You want to live off your brother’s generosity for the rest of your life, or build your own empire?”

“I did build my own empire,” Orm said coldly. “I didn’t need you to do it, nor am I looking for an ally at this time.”

“Give it a thought,” the man said, pressing a card into his hand. “It’s not something to decide in a moment. From what I’ve heard, you’re not the impulsive blowhard your brother is.”

“Half-brother.”

The man smiled. “Of course. My name is Jeremiah Arkham. You did me a favor by catching those men who escaped. Think about my offer. It stands for now, but not forever.”

He returned to the vehicle, along with the man who’d originally followed him.

That night, back in Erin’s apartment, Orm was uneasy. He’d been living in an alternate reality here, and his real life had reached out to touch him. It hadn’t yet touched Erin and Tommy, and hopefully never would, but he would be an idiot to assume he made their lives safer.

Erin asked him to chop up some vegetables for a salad, and Orm did so mechanically, letting Tommy’s talk about his latest magazine wash over him. But when the doorbell sounded, followed by a loud knock, Orm spun around with the knife in his hand. Several pieces of tomato fell to the floor, and Erin gave him a scared look.

“It’s just Alex, the guy I work for. He’s bringing over a contract I need to look at tonight.”

“Right.” Orm turned back to the cutting board. He picked up the tomato, and used a paper towel to wipe the floor.

He was rinsing his hands when she let Alex in. He was a man of medium height, brown hair, shiny shoes, and weak handshake.

Perhaps that was because he was surprised to see Orm.

“Orm, interesting name... Are you a friend of Erin’s?”

“That’s right.” He may have squeezed the man’s hand a little too hard.

“Huh. She’s never mentioned… Well, here’s the contract, Erin. Standard six percent, thirty-day escrow, but a few specifications on the loan. Take a look, and we’ll see if the Drysons want to counter.”

His eyes darted around as he handed over the thick, binder full of at least two inches of paper. He paused, seeing Orm’s shoes under the bench by the door, another place set at the table, and probably most damningly, an extra toothbrush in the cup by the bathroom sink, clearly visible from where he stood.

Orm almost laughed at the man’s chagrin, even though the situation was not what he must think it was.

Alex reached for the binder again. “Actually, there’s a couple sections I want to mark for you. Just bear with me a minute. Do you have highlighters in your office?”

Erin followed him in, and though she shut the door and they whispered, Orm could clearly hear Alex hiss, “Who the hell is that guy? Is he living with you?”

“It’s not any of your business.”

“I know. I don’t mean it that way… I just, he doesn’t look like your kind of—how long have you known him? You’ve never mentioned him before. I didn’t even know you were dating.”

“I’m not. He’s just a friend who needs a place to stay for a while. Again, not that it’s any of your business, but he’s sleeping in here.”

“So? That’s not safe. And you still didn’t say how long you’ve known him.”

“Alex, you’re a great boss, but get out.”

Orm noted that she didn’t refute the safety issue. 

“I’m just worried about you.”

“He hasn’t killed us yet.” Her voice was snarky, but… was she afraid he might hurt them? Surely she wouldn’t let him stay if so.

“Erin. You know I’ve always liked you…”

Orm squeezed a piece of cucumber to pulp.

“This isn’t the place and it sure isn’t the time for this conversation.” Erin jerked open the door and walked out. “Bye Alex. Thanks for coming by and saving me a trip.”

Alex finally took this dismissal.

When Tommy was in bed, after Orm read to him from Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, which they were both enjoying, Erin curled up on the couch with the contract on her lap, highlighter in hand, and glasses slipping down her nose.

Orm took another book he was reading and sat at the other end. He and Erin had a sort of unspoken quiet routine, and it certainly didn’t involve him staring at her, wishing he could’ve lived in their alternate reality, untouched and unanchored, for far longer.

She didn’t notice for a long time (she was very focused on her work), but eventually she did look up at him. She smiled a little self-consciously when he didn’t even pretend to be reading, just held the closed book on his lap.

“Lost in thought?” she asked.

He considered telling her about the man who approached him today, but… that would start a whole conversation of explanations and evasions. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t tell me all at once,” she joked.

Orm shifted to an easier topic. “Did you ever court that man, Alex?”

Her eyebrows zoomed up. “First of all, people in this country don’t really court anymore. If they ever did. They date or hook-up or hang out or get married, but no courting.”

“Did you date or hook-up or hang out with him?”

“I feel like I’ve already said this today, but that’s not really your business. As it happens, no. He asked me out, but I turned him down and he wasn’t persistent. The instant family aspect scares him.”

Orm’s felt like he tasted something sour. What a weakling to be intimidated by responsibility. If he thought a single woman and boy were too much, what would he do with a kingdom?

“He’s not a bad guy,” Erin said, perhaps reading his face. “You can’t – You won’t—You turned around awfully fast with that knife when he knocked.”

Orm’s brow furrowed. “Oh. No, that was not for him. I was only—”

“Only what?”

Orm tried to gauge her face. “You said just now that people in your country don’t court. Have you decided that I’m not… local?”

“You’re totally dodging the knife question, but—sure, why not? Yeah, I’ve decided that you’re definitely not from here. I’m not thinking Krypton or anything, but… I’d be an idiot not to realize that you’re a fish out of water here.”

Orm smirked, then laughed. It was uncontrolled and exuberant and released some of the tension from the day. She didn’t know what she’d said, of course, but she smiled along with him, a little quizzically.

“You don’t have to confirm it,” Erin said. “Though if you’d like to, I’m all ears.”

“I… I can only confirm right now that you’re correct. I am definitely a fish out of water.”

“The police, when I got my phone, told me they found a zipline grappling hook often used by the Batman,” Erin blurted out. “I know you’re not him—but—it’s enough that I know you’re not…normal. That’s all I’ve decided.”

Orm sobered. “And you still let me stay? It’s true, I’m not normal. Unfortunately, neither am I a hero.”

Erin wiggled her pen. “You replaced my sink, you’re totally a hero.”

Orm wasn’t sure what would have happened next. If he would have moved closer to her on the couch, removed the pen and the glasses, and… well. His phone buzzed.

Orm stood abruptly, as if caught sleeping while on guard duty, and pulled his phone out, stalking to the office.

 

Erin felt like she’d been leaning toward a campfire that was abruptly extinguished. Alex had been out of line to question her, but… that didn’t mean he was wrong. What the heck was she doing?

She quickly finished the section she was on, and then packed up the document neatly.

She liked Orm, there was no denying it, but that was all the more reason he should probably get out of their house. She couldn’t start treating him like… like a husband. Like someone she could confide in and rely on and share her life with.

He was more forthcoming tonight than he’d ever been, but she still didn’t know anything about his past, his conflicts, his identity…

When he’d spun around with that knife pointed toward the door, she’d been scared. It was so rapid, so intense, so prepared. Anyone who lived like that… their life could not be simple.

He was definitely something out of the norm, and he’d said he was not a hero. There were a lot of interpretations to that, but one of the most obvious was that he was a villain. Erin’s mind and heart rejected that option. He was unfailingly patient with Tommy, courteous with her, helpful with both. He didn’t laugh enough, but when he’d suddenly busted up just now, she’d thought how devastatingly handsome he looked when he was happy…

Erin shook herself. Handsomeness did not equal goodness.

When he came slowly out of the office, which she was coming to think of as his bedroom, she was finished cleaning the kitchen.

“Good news?” Erin asked.

“Yes. I suppose so.”

“Oh yeah?”

“My brother told me it’s safe to access my accounts again. I shouldn’t go back to…where I was. But I can afford to rent my own place again.”

“Right. That’s great.” Erin coughed to cover her sad sniff. “So, I know you’re between jobs, but are you independently wealthy or what? You have enough to live without working?” She filled a glass of water and handed it to him. He always drank more before bed.

“I guess you could say I’m… *dependently* wealthy. Maybe someday, I’ll be independent.”

Why that should make him look so dark, she wasn’t sure. “We’ll miss you. I mean," she corrected quickly, "*Tommy* will really miss you. If you have time to still drop in sometimes, Tommy would love that.”

Orm tilted his head. “Would you love it?”

“I—I mean, we’re all friends, right? We'll always be glad to-" 

"I'm asking about YOU, Erin."

Erin's hand fluttered uneasily and she clasped them both onto the counter behind her. "Yes. I'll be glad to see you. I don't connect with people every day-"

"Connect?" He took a step closer.

Erin hesitated, made the mistake of meeting his eyes."Orm. What do you want me to say? Yes, there's a thing here," she gestured between the two of them quickly, "but we don't really know each other and I'm a cautious person. Really cautious."

Orm's blue eyes darkened. "Then what am I still doing here? After everything I've told you?"

"I... believe in second chances. And you've been nothing but wonderful to us."

"But still the caution?"

"I mean, imagine if our situations were reversed. Would you..."

Orm stepped forward, bringing them together. "I would." His hand slid behind her neck and they were kissing.

Erin’s knees literally went weak for a moment, but Orm was holding her up. Her hands automatically slid around his waist and he said something unintelligible before kissing her again. It sounded like another language. He slid her glasses up into her hair and traced her hairline with his thumb.

Erin knew what it felt like to kiss a desperate man, one who’s life was falling apart and their only relief was her. And that’s what Orm felt like. She kissed him, and enjoyed it, but some part of her brain was questioning him at the same time.

When she realized she was truly trapped between him and the counter, Erin forced herself to disengage, as hard as it was. It seemed to take forever to sort out where she stopped and he began. His hands followed her, even as she stepped away. His hands slid down her arms and gripped her wrists, before carefully letting go. There was a split second where she wasn’t sure he would let go, as she felt how strong his hands were, and that firmed her resolve.

“Orm, I- um. It’s not that I don’t want… But you’re about to leave, and I have to be… careful. For Tommy’s sake.”

“So you said.” He passed a hand over his face. “I apologize.”

To have gone from that searing passion to a controlled apology in two seconds… Erin eyed him warily. That kind of iron self-control was unnerving.

Orm stared at the wall for a moment, and then turned her to face him. She’d turned half away, unconsciously trying to diffuse the tension.

“Erin. Your husband is dead, is that right?”

She reeled back a little. “Yes. Did Tommy tell you—”

“Then you can marry me.”

“W-What?”

“I am not afraid of responsibility. Of—of the “instant family” you talked about. That’s something I’ve wanted my whole life.”

“But…”

“It would be… easy, wouldn’t it? You and me and Tommy.” He looked as if he’d just stumbled out of a cave into a meadow.

But she still remembered how he’d kissed her. Like his life was imploding.

“Orm,” she said as gently as she could. “You can’t marry someone you just met last week. Your life is hard right now. I don’t know how exactly… but you have to walk through it. You can’t just escape your old life with us.”

“Maybe I could,” he said. “For once, I can imagine never going back.”

Erin’s heart broke a little. “I don’t think you’re that kind of person. You wouldn’t be satisfied with a fractured… life.”

“No, then?” he said calmly, but with a world of unspoken hurt behind it.

“Orm… If you’re still in our lives in a year, ask me then.”

“A year?”

Erin smiled shakily. “Good behavior might knock off a few months.”

Orm kissed her forehead. “You’re as smart as you are beautiful.”

Erin huffed in embarrassment, but Orm just squeezed her hand. “Goodnight, Erin.”

Erin lay awake in bed for a long while. What unnerved her was that despite Orm’s iron self-control, which she’d witnessed on more than one occasion, he’d kissed her. He’d chosen to kiss her.

Orm had obviously spoken impulsively when he proposed, but he seemed absolutely serious. More than anything, this made him seem alien to her. And she couldn’t quite trust what she didn’t understand.

Was he from some more traditional society that treated marriage differently from the average American? Was he a high-functioning psychopath of some sort? Erin raised and discarded a hundred theories, but all she could picture was the look on his face when he said goodnight.

 

In the morning, Orm did a number of errands involved with finding a new apartment and starting his life over. When he’d held Erin last night, for the first time, it was like the chains of Atlantis were loosed. He could imagine never going back. He could imagine finding the strength to never fight Arthur again. He could imagine Arthur reigning as king until he was an old man, and Orm himself, growing old on land. Erin and Tommy were so happy. Maybe he could be part of that.

His last task was to call the number on Jeremiah Arkham’s card.

“This is Orm Marius. What kind of job are you offering?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this installment on my phone while camping, borrowing heavily from the comics as needed. I moved Arkham Asylum from Gotham to New York and did a quick search for villains to populate the place. Freud is my invention, but Black Mask and Clayface and the others are DC.  
> Basically it's all an excuse for angst and fluff! Enjoy.

While looking for another apartment, Orm prioritized finding a place near Erin and Tommy. He would probably deny it if asked, but that was his main consideration. Having found a tentative peace with Erin and Tommy, a salve that rendered his past failures less painful, his future less bleak, he was loathe to give it up.  
He found a place less than a block away, but he didn’t tell Erin that. It was helpful to have the down payment ready, though it would still be a week before he could move in.

“My apartment is available next Friday. Is it alright if I use your office until then?” He’d waited to ask her until Tommy was present.

She gave him a rueful look that told him she knew exactly what he’d done, but agreed nonetheless.

Tommy was excited. “You’ll still be here for my class field trip to Greenwood Lake, on Tuesday. You should come too.”

Erin frowned. “No, Tommy, I’m sorry. Only ... parents can go on field trips.”

Orm put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never been there. Maybe we could go another time? Over the weekend?”

“Yeah! It’s great for swimming even though there’s no waves. But there’s sand for sandcastles.”

“I don’t know. We’ll see,” Erin said.

 

The next day, Orm found his way to the Arkham Prison and Asylum. It was outside the city, and he took an Uber, which was another app Erin suggested.

The prison more nearly resembled a castle than anything else Orm had seen on the surface. There were walls within walls around the perimeter. There were guard towers. There was even a sort of gate with a portcullis. But any thought that the place was an archaic throwback was belied by the construction going on. Parts of walls were disassembled with piles of brick or broken drywall nearby, and it looked like complicated technology was being inserted. Cords snaked across the floor. Moving equipment rumbled in the courtyard like huge beasts.

Construction workers were busy in every corner, and everyone wore strange round hats like bowls on their heads.

A lackey ushered Orm up an elevator and then along several corridors to a plush office in one of the guard towers.

Along the corridors, which were dark from lack of windows, he thought he heard manic laughter.

Cell doors lined the walls, but they were not what he expected of a terrestrial prison. There were no bars. There were only thick, padded doors with quadruple locks. Each door had a tiny window. Orm felt a strange impulse to look into the rooms, and finally did stop and peer into one of the windows. Inside was a man with no shirt, covered with tiny scars, like tally marks. He looked up and smiled at Orm. His teeth were filed into points, and the padded walls were shredded into ribbons.

Orm backed away.

Jeremiah Arkham, whom he'd met briefly after confronting his lackey, was a handsome man with the confidence that came from money and success.

“Welcome to my little kingdom, Orm Marius,” he said with a southern accent. He cracked his knuckles and then shook Orm’s hand. “From what I heard, you almost ended up here, but I’m better pleased to know you this way.”

Orm jerked his own hand away. “Excuse me?”

Jeremiah sank into his chair. “Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m GLAD you didn’t end up here. Said so, didn’t I?”

“Do you mean that—” Orm’s mind spun as he put together the man’s uncanny knowledge of Orm’s identity, schedule, and abilities. “Did my brother talk to you about imprisoning me here?”

“Him and that general of yours. I get all the big ones, you know. Joker, Riddler, Mirrorman, all that sort. Ocean Master. I must admit it would have been a matter of pride to add you to my collection, but you mustn’t mind my saying that. Occupational hazard. Please sit!”

Orm wasn’t often caught off-guard, but this man had done it. Orm had half a mind to leave before he was further insulted, but instead he sat. Stiffly. “You have a proposition to offer me?”

“First let me thank you for your assistance last week. That was Raggedy Man and Clayface you took down, and thanks to you they’re safe back in their rooms here.”

“Clayface?” Orm repeated. “Was he the one who turned into sludge and formed his extremities into hammers and such?”

Jeremiah laughed delightedly. “Showed off for you, did he? You must be uncommonly good to take him down in that state.”

Orm didn’t answer.

“You see,” Jeremiah continued, clicking a pen in and out repeatedly, “I inherited this place from my uncle and it was a wreck. I’m trying to bring it up to date. All state-of-the-art systems. Facial recognition, infrared & heat sensing, air locks—in case of gas attacks you know, surprisingly common—and obviously computer systems so that it can be monitored and locked down remotely. But in the meantime, I’ve got a slew of construction guys in and out, I’ve got occasional power outages from the work, and I’ve got an asylum of the most powerful—and insane—people in the world. It’s a damn safety hazard, is what I’m saying.”

“How do I come in?”

He dropped the pen but now his leg jiggled up and down. “Well, it’s been growing in my mind that what I need is one of those powerful people on my side. Batman is fine, when he can be bothered to step in, but more than half the time he’s off somewhere. And who’s to say he’d prioritize my life if anything came up? No, I want someone on my payroll.”

“As what? Bodyguard?” Orm fought back a wave of resentment against Arthur. Not long ago, *Orm* had been the one who needed elite guards. Now he was to be a lowly hired hand? He shoved a hand through his hair.

“Among other things. Body guard when I need it. Bounty hunter when one of my prisoners skips parole, or heaven forbid, escapes. General muscle when it’s needed.”

Orm’s mouth flattened into a line as he clenched his teeth, but was there any surface job he *wouldn't* find demeaning? At least this one was straightforward.

“I accept.”

“Now hold on, hold on. I didn’t offer a salary yet.” He named a price, but Orm wasn’t certain if it was good or bad. It would definitely afford him rent.

Just to test the man, Orm doubled it.

Without a blink, Jeremiah nodded. “I can do that. Welcome to Arkham.”

 

“I have a job,” Orm told Erin that night. “At Arkham.”

She rubbed her cheek automatically, though the bruise was long gone. “The prison? Are you sure you want to work there? It’s the last place I’d apply.”

Orm’s whole body tightened at the thought. “I wouldn’t want you within a mile of that place.”

Erin sat in the rocking chair next to the couch; Orm assumed it was to make it clear she didn’t want him to sit by her.

“But you’re willing to work there? I mean, obviously you’re strong enough, but...”

Orm leaned back, pillowing his head on his arm. “They know who I am, what I’m leaving behind. It simplifies things.” He still couldn’t expel the image of himself, locked in one of those padded cells… Had Arthur truly thought it necessary? Orm had thought that their relationship, while certainly based in extreme violence, at least had garnered mutual respect. Arkham Prison and Asylum was for those who were truly evil or insane.

“You weren’t...” a horrified look came over her face. “You weren’t *in* Arkham, were you?”

Orm turned his head toward her, following some sick compulsion to test her. “I told you I wasn’t a hero.”

She carefully put down her folder. “I’ve driven by. I’m not superstitious, but I swear I didn’t sleep peacefully for a week after. It’s such a dark place.”

“IS that finally enough of a reason for you to kick me out?”

“That’s not fair. It’s a maximum security prison. I deserve to know why—”

“I wasn’t,” Orm said shortly. “I’ve been in prison, but not that one. 

Erin bit her lip. “You’ve told me your life is different now, and I believe you. But... you can’t expect to blurt that out and not make me ask questions.”

Orm knew he wasn’t being fair. Learning that Arkham might have been his future was deeply unsettling. He felt thirsty just thinking about it. Rising unsteadily, he went to the kitchen for water.

Erin followed him quietly. She put a light hand on his shoulder. “Is a prison a good place for you? Will it tempt you to... backslide?”

Orm drained his glass and pressed cold fingers to his eyes. He didn’t deserve someone like Erin. “I don’t know.”

Erin took a step away. He could feel her worry, even her fear, as she still tried to reach out to him. Orm couldn’t stand it. He spun around and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and laying his head on her hair. “I would never hurt you or Tommy. I know that much.”

“I believe you.” Her voice was muffled and he shifted to give her some air but still keep her close. She continued, “But someday you’ll have to tell me what happened. You have to tell me who you are if you ever expect me to...”

“To trust me?”

“Yes.”

Orm nodded, knowing she could feel the motion. His hold tightened even as his heart relaxed for the first time since the interview.

She made it bearable to be who he was.

She had no idea how much he’d hated the people on the surface, how much his father had prejudiced Orm against them. So she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant that Orm never wanted to hurt her and Tommy, but on the contrary, protect them. He couldn’t say he’d suddenly fallen in love with the human race, but he had a reason not to wage war the way he’d once planned. He wasn’t sure if it would be enough, a lifetime was a long time, but... He kissed Erin’s head.

“I will tell you,” Orm said. “But not tonight. Please.”

 

On Orm’s last night with then, Erin spent extra time scrubbing the dishes from dinner. She’d tried to slip easily through the remaining days that Orm slept in her office, but it was not easy. He was a perfect gentleman...with the exception of that one night he’d broken down. He didn’t kiss her again and she didn’t initiate anything. She wanted to help him, but she... still didn’t totally trust him.

There. It was out.

She didn’t think he would suddenly fly into a rage and hurt them, but she was not at all certain that he wouldn’t disappear one night and never return.

So she kept her distance, sort of, and he kept his, but that did not make it easy. Sometimes the living room seemed to hum like a tuning fork with how much she wanted to give into this fantasy.

Perhaps because she had had such a good marriage, however short, it was too easy to imagine that Orm was here for good. That she could have the kind of love and security she wanted to have.

But he was emphatically NOT her husband, he wasn’t even her boyfriend. He was a mysterious stranger with a prison record (where? why? when?), an unhealthy ability to injure people, and, unless she was much mistaken, something like super strength.

Tonight she had dropped a knife in the crack between the cabinet and the fridge, and he pulled the fridge out with one hand so she could reach it. He’d done it almost absentmindedly, while telling her about his brother and sister-in-law. When she’d gaped at him, he’d only paused ever so slightly, and then made more of a show of pushing it back into place.

That wasn’t the only thing. It was the latest in a string of moments that seemed to be getting more frequent, as if he was letting his guard down.

Erin finished the dishes and went to the living room. This week she’d taken to sitting in the rocking chair, but Orm was seated in it tonight. His eyes were closed but his hand was moving slightly as if conducting an inaudible orchestra. To add to her list of odd things about him, he was completely unused to music of any kind. She played all sorts of music in the evenings, from Bach to Fall Out Boys to Adele. His favorite was Mozart which did not surprise her at all. She did not doubt that in another lifetime, if his intensity had been directed toward music, he would’ve been a force to be reckoned with.

She eyed the couch. It wasn’t that Orm wouldn’t walk the line, but she didn’t want to invite a situation she would just have to diffuse.

“Just sit,” Orm said, without opening his eyes. “I’ll stay right here.”

Erin sank down, “I’m that unsubtle, huh?”

He opened a lazy eye. “You could give the spiny lobster lessons.” But he said it with a small smile.

Despite his strength, he actually looked sleepy tonight.

“Was work … hard today?” Erin asked.

“No.”

“You look exhausted.”

He shrugged. “So do you.”

“I’m a single mom, I always look tired,” she quipped. Then she regretted mentioning her single status, not wanting to trigger any more crazy proposals.

“I was serious about... going to the lake,” Orm said. For the first half of his sentence, her heart froze. He smiled wryly at her panicked look before he kept going. He was teasing her! “I’ve never been there, and I have Saturday off. I’ll work it out, you don’t have to do anything.”

“That’s nice of you, but I only have the morning free.”

“So we go first thing in the morning.”

“I don’t...”

Orm finally sat up straight. “Erin. It would thrill Tommy. It would get us out of the city. Why not?”

Because it would be too much like a family outing, that’s why.

Orm continued, “You told me to wait, to see if I’d still be part of your lives in a year. But...you have to LET me be part of your lives in order to show that.”

Erin crossed her arms, feeling cold. “It’s scary,” she said simply.

“I know.”

 

So Erin found herself at the lake early Saturday morning. She hoped the water wasn’t unbearably cold, but wasn’t overly optimistic. It was June, and the days were turning muggy and hot, but the water hadn’t had all summer to warm up yet.

The sandy beach on this part of the lake was clean and well-kept. A string of buoys in the water, connected by yellow rope, marked off where the public swimming area was. A few motor boats buzzed like water beetles far out in the water, but not many people were out yet.

“Here we go!” Tommy said.

“Hang on,” Erin shouted at his retreating back. “You don’t go in the water without one of us, alright? There’s no lifeguard on duty yet.”

“I’ll take him in,” Orm offered. “You’re shivering and you haven’t even touched the water yet.” He hesitated, then pulled her into another hug. He still had on his t-shirt with his swimming trunks, but his arms were like bands of warmth around her. And after a moment, the warmth of his chest seeped through too, and Erin sighed at how good it felt.

“Come on,” Tommy shouted. “You can hug her any time, but you can’t swim any time!”

Erin felt Orm laughing before he let go. “Quite the opposite,” he called back. “But I’m coming.” He whipped off his shirt and jogged across the sand to Tommy.

Tommy was soon chest deep in the water, which was waist deep for Orm. She could hear Orm asking how well Tommy could swim and getting a demonstration. She appreciated that he was checking Tommy’s skills before they went any deeper, even though she knew Tommy was an excellent swimmer. When Orm was assured of that, they slowly swam out to the rope and back again.

Erin dumped their stuff on a blanket and approached close enough to let the water lap her toes. There were slight waves, and the water was cold, though not as icy as she expected. Perhaps she was still warm from Orm’s hug.

The man had to stop doing that or she would melt. Somehow hugs got under her guard faster than anything more serious, which she would have shut down.

The bottom of the lake was sandy, but it began to feel a bit squishy and muddy as she waded out. By the time she was thigh deep, there was a cloud of muck wherever she stepped.

Orm and Tommy came back to her; Tommy clasping something in his hands to show her.

“What is it? Did you find a shell?”

Tommy was bouncing up and down, “Even better, look!” He uncapped his hands to show her a wriggling perch.

It squirted out of his grasp, slippery and fast, and smacked Erin in the stomach.

“Yeugh!” She splashed back a few steps.

“I lost it!” Tommy moaned. “I didn’t mean to throw it at you, Mom. They’re just so slippery.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get you another one,” Orm said. 

He sank down in the water up to his neck and felt around. Erin felt his fingertips ghost over her foot, giving her goosebumps. Then he stood up again, clutching another fish. This one was thinner and smaller, barely more than a minnow.

“Here,” he told Tommy, “cup your hands together and you’ll be able to hang onto this little one.”

He transferred the fish carefully to Tommy who looked as if his eyes would pop out of his head.

Once he was holding it, he giggled. “It tickles. Do you want to hold it?”

Erin shuddered. “Fish are great to eat but not to hold.”

“This one wouldn’t be much good to eat,” Orm said. “Still, as a snack...” he grabbed another fish (how was he doing that?) and held it up to his mouth.

Tommy gasped, but Erin just laughed. “Don’t worry, Tommy, he’s just teasing you.”

Orm smiled. He tilted his head back, tossed in the fish, and swallowed it whole.

“Oh my gosh!” Tommy exclaimed. “That is so cool.”

“Tommy, don’t you dare eat your fish,” Erin exclaimed. “You don’t know where it’s been, what it has on it...” She slapped Orm’s arm. “What the heck!”

He shrugged clearly enjoying her horror. “You eat sushi. This is less weird than that.”

“It emphatically is not.”

Tommy released his fish reluctantly into the water, but Orm offered to race him to the rope, and Tommy lit up again.

Erin eventually dove in and swam briskly for a few minutes to warm up.

Orm and Tommy treaded water nearby. Erin wanted to suggest that they go back where Tommy could touch; she didn’t want him to get too tired. But he looked so happy, and she saw that he was clinging to Orm’s arm, so she let it go a little longer. Orm supported both himself and Tommy without much effort.

Orm’s hair was slicked back, his eyes bright. He actually looked happy. He was always polite, often pleasant, sometimes amused, but she had never seen this look of pure enjoyment on his face. She didn’t realize she’d floated closer until he reached out and ran a hand down her arm, from her shoulder to her wrist. He tugged her close and kissed her cheek.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed—“

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a yell, almost a scream, that carried to them across the lake.

A small sailboat capsized. Erin shaded her eyes in time to see two figures thrown into the water as the brilliant white and red sail smacked into the water and disappeared. The sailboat was still moving somehow, and soon it was properly upside down.

Erin squinted at them. One figure popped up next to the boat right away, but the other...

Erin couldn’t be sure, perhaps they’d come up on the far side, but she had the feeling one person was still underwater.

A desperate, “Help!” reached them next.

“The bag, my phone,” Erin said. “We need to call 911.” The boat was too far for them to swim to it within the next ten or maybe even twenty minutes, and by then they’d be pretty tired and not much help.

“Unless...” Erin looked at Orm. She didn’t know what she expected him to do, but she had the certain conviction that he could help if he wanted.

Orm returned her look with exasperation and maybe a tiny bit of mischief. “Alright.”

He dove under the water, and she and Tommy were pushed back by the resulting shockwave of...whatever he had just done.

When she rubbed the lake water out of her eyes, she saw Orm’s blond head pop up next to the sailboat, in stark relief against its upturned bow.

Then he dove out of sight again.

“Mom,” Tommy said uncertainly, now clinging to her arm. “Can people swim like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some people.”

Only ten seconds later, Orm’s head broke the surface again, and this time he was pulling someone else up in a lifeguard hold.

“Oh, thank heaven,” Erin whispered.

She and Tommy swam back to where they could both touch, and she tried not to think about the frustration on Orm’s face when she turned to him. If he could do these amazing things, he SHOULD do them, right? He should WANT to help people...

Erin shook her head and wrung out her hair.

Soon the sail of the boat rose out of the water again like a great bird, water droplets cascading down its wings. It maneuvered toward the nearest boat dock, skillfully tacking across the slight breeze. She wasn’t surprised to see Orm handling the tiller or whatever controlled the tiny boat. Only when it was in, and she saw two people shaking his hand and hugging him, did she breathe properly.

Orm started back to them, walking along the edge of the lake. Erin knew, as clearly as if she was in his head, that he was doing so for the sake of those two watching him.

Tommy didn’t run up to meet him, but just stood with his towel wrapped around his small, dripping frame.

Not even when Orm tousled Tommy’s hair and smiled at them both did Tommy’s unnerving quiet end.

Orm tilted his head toward the dock. “They’re fine. They didn’t release the ropes and that caused the sail to remain taut and drag through the water. One of them was trying to pull it loose, but his foot got tangled in the tackle.”

Tommy finally spoke. “That was...that was crazy. You can swim faster than Aquaman!”

Orm’s face shuttered at this and he turned away to get his own towel. More lake-goers were arriving now and Orm’s eyes flicked to the nearest family as he dried off.

Several things clicked for Erin. Encyclopedic knowledge of the ocean, super strong, swam like a torpedo, not a hero...

She gasped. “Oh. Of course.”

Orm turned sharply and Erin fell back a step.

“Tommy,” Orm said, “would you go check what time that concession stand will open? It should be on the sign.”

“Okay...” There was suspicion in his tone, but he went.

“Did you figure it out?” Orm asked quietly.

“Aquaman... the tsunamis. The trash. The Atlantean sightings over the Mariana Trench? That battle they say destroyed a village in Sicily?

“The village was not me. Not ... directly.”

“Then everything else was?”

Orm looked at his hand which was clenched into a fist, and then back to her. His eyes were so flat they’d gone gray. His face was like stone. “Yes.”

“Hundreds of people died,” Erin whispered.

“More than that, if you count my people. It was war.”

“War?” she choked. “War with who? Why?”

 

Orm wondered if Erin realized she’d wrapped her arms around herself defensively, and backed away until the blanket and her big bag lay between them.

He explained, in a few terse sentences. He didn’t apologize, he didn’t minimize.

Erin shivered. “So now you’re what... living in enemy territory? Am I your enemy? Is Tommy?”

Tommy ran back up to them. “It opens at 2. Orm did you know that—“

“Tommy, your mom and I need to talk about something. Can you get started on a sandcastle and show it to me when we’re done?”

Tommy seemed to sense how serious Orm was, and he grabbed the sand toys and moved down toward the water, looking over his shoulder. Several other kids were running back and forth with buckets, and soon he joined in.

Erin grabbed her shirt and put it back on ever her wet swimsuit. “I think we’d better go.”

Orm felt a familiar numbness creep over him. He would talk to her, but she would still leave. What else could she do?

“You asked if you and Tommy are my enemies. No, a thousand times no. I told you I would never hurt either of you, and that’s true.”

“I thought you meant emotionally! I didn’t think actual decimation was on the table.” Her voice rose.

“It isn’t. Not anymore.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Not anymore? Because you were defeated by your brother? That makes me feel so safe.”

“No. Because I have DECIDED that my plan was short-sighted and more than a little bit influenced by my father’s hatred of... of humans.”

Erin gathered the blanket and shook it. “But what about your own hatred? You’re a...a...”

“A terrorist?”

Erin blanched. Her already pale face turned splotchy white. “I need to go.”

Something about that word triggered a strong reaction, and Orm almost didn’t care why. She would walk away any moment, taking herself and Tommy out of his life forever. Whichever words made it happen faster were irrelevant.

“I’ll go,” Orm said. “Tommy’s been looking forward to this. I’ll tell him goodbye.”

Erin’s hand covered her mouth. She nodded.

Orm crouched by Tommy, whose lumpy castle was half crumbled from too-dry sand.

“It doesn’t stick as well as real beach sand,” Tommy complained.

“True. Listen Tommy, I have to go. I’m sorry. I hope I’ll see you soon.”

Tommy’s head snapped up. “Now? But you’re supposed to stay until lunch. We brought a sandwich for you.”

Orm rubbed Tommy’s arm. “Thanks. I guess you can have mine. You’re always so hungry.”

“I don’t want yours, I want YOU.”

Orm’s heart lurched like a suffocating animal searching for one last lungful of air. His numbness didn’t cover this.

 

Erin tried to think, but she could only feel. And what she mainly felt was heart-break. As she watched Orm squat down and talk to Tommy—always so good with him!—the word terrorist pounded like a three-beat drum cadence in her head.

No one in New York could be indifferent to the idea, but Erin’s husband had died in Afghanistan—victim of a roadside bomb.

She drifted close enough to hear Orm’s goodbye, and the world paused when Orm put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

Sometimes there were moments that defined your life, but you didn’t realize until later, when hindsight shone a spotlight and lit them up like a golden engraving. Like the last time she’d hugged her grandfather, before he died of a sudden stroke.

Other times, defining moments were obvious even in the moment. Like when she’d met Tommy’s dad on a flight from LA to New York, and by the time they landed, he’d already asked her to have dinner with him.

Erin felt instinctively that this moment at the lake had that potential. If Orm left now, even if she told him she needed time to process or that she would call him someday, she would be making a choice that would have repercussions.

But what option was there? He was a beaten despot, a defeated warlord... a terrorist? How could she let him into their lives?

But then, he was already in. At this point it would be a matter of thrusting him out.

And he had been crystal clear from the first day they met that he was running from his past. He’d even told her he cost people their lives, and that he’d been in prison.

Did he feel remorse though? And if he did, was that enough?

No answers fell out of the sky.

Erin breathed a prayer for her safety (and her sanity) and stooped down to open the bag. 

“Tommy’s right,” she called. “You should stay and have your sandwich. We wouldn’t feel right eating without you.”

 

Orm stood abruptly, as if he were a puppet on strings.

“What?”

Erin thrust a sandwich into his hand. “Here.”

Her lips were rather bloodless and some kind of battle was taking place behind her eyes. Orm studied her, but she went back to rummage for chips. “I’m already hungry, aren’t you?”

Then she spread the blanket back out. It just reached his toes. “You guys shake the sand off your feet before you sit.”

Orm had understood what was happening a moment ago. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Erin had been hurt, afraid, and angry.

This... he did not understand. She was literally spreading a blanket at his feet and offering him a meal.

She must be trying to make it less painful and abrupt for Tommy. Orm sat, but prepared himself to leave as soon as they were done.

Erin was clearly not at ease, and Tommy was still unsettled, so they were all rather quiet.

When Tommy asked him to swim again, Orm looked at Erin. She didn’t meet his eyes, but quickly agreed. “Sure, let’s all go one more time.”

Being next to Erin in the water was torture. He could feel her warmth next to him, but it only made the emotional barrier between them clearer. He hadn’t realized how close they’d been earlier, how free she’d been with her words and smile. Now she wouldn’t even leave Tommy with him for a few minutes.

Now he was thrust back into the roll of outsider.

Orm smiled grimly. He WAS an outsider. He would always be an outsider.

But it was hard to spiral into that dark place in his head when Tommy, gamely trying to pull them all out of the funk he perceived, asked Orm to throw him.

“Throw you?”

“Yeah, you know, like throw me up high so I can splash down.”

Orm looked uncertainly at Erin, but she shrugged.

“Okay.” He hefted Tommy like a baby, holding under his knees and back, and then sort of dropped him in the water.

Tommy laughed. “No, not like that. Hold me under my armpits and throw me up. Show him, Mom.”

Erin groaned. “But you’re getting so big!”

She planted her feet and thrust Tommy as high as she could, which was a surprising foot or two higher than Orm expected.

Tommy did indeed splash back down spectacularly, arms spread wide, and Erin shook the water out of her face. Her hair slapped Orm’s chest. “He’s always loved that. Since he was a baby.”

Her eyes only briefly met his, but Orm recognized a peace offering when he saw one. She was letting him back in, at least a little.

Orm, king and warrior, felt his balance waver as he realized this was real. She wasn’t just letting Tommy down easy. She was giving Orm a chance.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and thank her for trying. He wanted to kiss her (he’d been wanting that for a while). He wanted to give her the world.

Instead, he just snagged Tommy and threw him up and out. Even Orm’s gentle throw was higher than Erin’s and Tommy shrieked with glee before splashing under.

“Again,” he gasped, after he surfaced. “That’s the longest hangtime I’ve ever had!”

Erin laughed. “What do you know about hangtime?”

Orm threw Tommy again and again, and hoped that his future would hold moments even half as happy as what he felt now.

 

Erin didn’t invite Orm to have dinner with them that night. She needed to talk to him, to ask a thousand questions, to put together the puzzle of his identity, now that she had all the pieces. But having dinner with him and Tommy would be torture. She couldn’t have a serious conversation that way. And talking to Orm after Tommy was in bed... that was just too fraught with tension.

Orm had moved his few things out of their apartment yesterday, so she just said goodby to him on the sidewalk. “I have a free block of time on Monday. Maybe we could have lunch?”

Orm’s face was hard to read, but his eyes came alive. “Yes. It’ll take me some time to get to the city from Arkham...“

“I could meet you there—“

“No.”

Erin blinked.

He softened. “I don’t want you to have to drive there. I’ll find somewhere for us to meet.”

 

Orm’s place to meet turned out to be a tiny diner in Irvington, looking out toward the Hudson River. Erin got there a few minutes late, and Orm was already seated in a booth, looking altogether out of place. He was too tall, too stiff, too polished for this place. She’d sensed all that before at times, but now, knowing who he was, it was crystal clear.

Erin had googled everything about the attack that happened over a year ago. She’d read about it before, but the details and speculation took on new meaning.

Orm looked up and she saw that same life jump back into his eyes, along with wariness. “Thank you for coming.”

Erin slid onto the opposite bench. “Of course. I asked you to meet me.”

“You did.” Orm smiled a little, and there was a wealth of painful history behind it.

Erin fidgeted with her menu and purse. It was easy to say she had a thousand questions; it was harder to know where to begin. Especially when she dreaded the answers.

They ordered a quick lunch, but Erin was still hesitant.

Orm put his hand on top of hers. “I won’t be angry, even if this is the last time you want to see me.”

“That’s not why I’m... I’m scared. I don’t WANT to know much more. I don’t want to thrust you out. But I’m a mom. I have to do what’s best for Tommy…”

Orm gave his fake smile. “I’ve been thrust out by far more ruthless people than you. I’m not easily hurt.”

Erin frowned. “I don’t entirely believe you.”

Orm shrugged. “As you will. What would you like to ask?”

Erin thought and shifted, opened her mouth once or twice, but couldn’t commit. Finally she shrugged helplessly. “I suppose the problem is that I don’t need to know the past, I need to know the future. And you can’t tell me that.”

 

Orm admired Erin for many things. Her bravery, her commitment to her son, her generosity to strangers—to name a few. Now he added a shrewd understanding of people.

She continued, “You can tell me that you’ll never lead an Atlantean—” she stumbled over the word—“an Atlantean army against the surface again. You can tell me you’ll me you’ll let your brother rule—“

”Arthur,” Orm supplied.

She looked a little taken aback at the name. Did most people not know Aquaman’s identity?

“Arthur. Okay, you can say you’ll let him lead. And whatever you say, I’ll believe that you mean it. Now. But a thousand things could happen that would make you that person again. What if Arthur leaves or dies or makes some gargantuan mistake? What if our army were to attack yours?”

Orm stiffened at the thought.

“See? How can you live here when you feel like that?”

“Because I have to,” Orm snapped. He immediately drew back and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I decided to be calm above all things today.”

A waitress brought their food and left after a quick check that they were alright.

“You don’t have to eradicate every emotion to talk to me,” Erin chided. “Why do you have to live here? I guess that’s as good a place to start as any.”

Orm slid out of the booth and stood. Erin looked stricken—did she think he would walk away now?—but Orm knelt and pulled up his pant leg and pulled down his sock. He tapped the glowing jewel embedded in his skin.

“This is a tracker. Arkham tells me you have similar things for human prisoners. My brother, or more likely his general, Vulko, keeps track of my position with this. If I go into the ocean, even most beaches, it’ll alert them. They haven’t said, but I assume this one is constructed to incapacitate me if the need arises.”

Erin reached forward to touch it but drew back uncertainly.

“No, it’s fine, go ahead.”

Erin rubbed the small jewel. “It’s so warm.”

“Fire gem.” Orm sat back down. “My father had one designed for my mother, too.”

Erin almost smiled, then her eyes widened with horror as she understood. “She was...”

“His prisoner, essentially.”

Erin eyes were filled with distaste and pity. “And you were their son—“

“Don’t feel too bad for me. I—I gave the same jewel to my fiancé without telling her what it was.” Orm winced at the confession and Erin’s quickly hidden shock. “And ironically I thought I was starting my marriage off better than he had.”

“Oh?” Erin said faintly.

“The only saving grace—minuscule though it is—was that although I knew I could incapacitate her, I never considered activating that part.” Orm hurried on, not wanting Erin to dwell for too long on that thought. “For a while I was in prison in Atlantis. But that made my mother...”

“I’m sure she hated it.”

“Extremely. She feels it’s in some fashion her fault that I was raised alone, without her, without a friend or mentor...” he shook his head, refusing to think about Vulko’s betrayal. It was, when he’d been king, the most inexplicable. Only when he realized that his mother had explicitly begged Vulko to prepare Arthur for the crown had it all made sense. Vulko had carried out the late queen’s wishes to the end— even when it was discovered that she was not dead after all.

His mother’s choice, before his father heartlessly condemned her to the Trench, also stabbed deeply. What had he done, at such a young age, to make her think anything were better than his rule?

“You’re here because of her,” Erin said softly.

“Well,” Orm stretched, putting those thoughts on hold and finishing another bite. “Yes and no. It certainly caused her immense pain to have me so near, and yet locked away. She wanted to enjoy Arthur and Mera’s engagement and marriage... and there I was, a son in the dungeon.

“But it wasn’t wholly for her. I’m not the martyr type. Given a choice between an active life here, with its freedoms, and an inactive, circumscribed life there ... I would choose this.”

“Along with the possibility of returning to challenge your brother?” Erin asked.

Orm couldn’t honestly say that hadn’t been in his mind.

“Do you have elections or what?” Erin asked.

Orm smiled widely, thinking of Arthur’s challenge in the Fire Arena with a gleam of humor for the first time. “Not elections, no.”

“Don’t laugh at me. How should I know what outlandish customs you have?”

“Of course you wouldn’t. We ... duel.”

“Duel ... like with swords or what?”

“Tridents.”

“I should have thought of that.” She frowned suddenly, intensely. “And he BEAT you? But you’re so...” she gestured vaguely at him, blushing. Orm felt a little glow of pleasure, which helped him respond evenly, “Yes. He defeated me when we fought on the surface.”

Erin bit her lip. “And all your time at this gym you keep mentioning—does that have anything to do with learning to beat him up here?”

Orm rubbed his neck. Erin kept intuitively linking the clues she had. “It... was,” Orm admitted. “But I’ve lost the assurance—my brother would probably call it arrogance—that I was in the right. I thought I was going to be the savior of Atlantis. Anything I did for such a cause seemed right. That’s no longer the case.”

Orm paid the bill and gestured to the door. “What if we walk for a few more minutes?”

 

Erin’s mind kept straying back to the few things he’d said about his parents and his fiancé. She hadn’t heard of much more screwed up family dynamics than that. When you added his fiancé marrying his half-brother, it went into Grecian-tragedy territory.

But if this was his life, his past... Erin sighed. It would take far more than a year for him to put that behind him. If he ever could.

In the meantime, he had few options but to make the surface world his home. Erin shivered suddenly in the breeze the kicked up off the river. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse and goosebumps rose on her arms.

“What did they call you?” Erin asked suddenly.

“What did they call me?”

“Your Majesty? Lord Marius? Sir?”

“Ah. Why do you ask?”

“Because it’s... The way people treat you becomes part of your identity, and I’m still trying to piece yours together.”

“My full title was His Majesty Orm Marius the first, Ocean Master, King of the Seven Seas.”

“No wonder you kind of flinch when people just say your name. How do you come down from that and ... take out your trash and cook yourself dinner?”

Orm smirked. “Contrary to popular opinion, kings are not necessarily fools. The same self-discipline that served me then serves me now. I am not the type to throw off years of training in a day and I thrive on order and routine.”

“That’s ... impressive.”

“I had many months to ponder the alternatives. Speaking of which, I ought to return to Arkham.”

“Oh, right. I can drop you off ...”

“No need,” Orm said. He gestured to a motorcycle parked just ahead. “I have a vehicle now.”

“A motorcycle?”

Orm smiled. “It reminds me of the speeder I had before. And I was told it was foolish to purchase a car.”

“Motorcycles are kind of dangerous,” Erin commented. “I mean, I don’t know what an underwater collision would look like, but...”

Orm grinned. “But that’s why they’re fun.”

“You sound just like—“ Erin broke off before she could compare him to her husband. Those would not be words easily taken back. “Okay. Be safe.”

He gripped Erin’s hand. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, er, probably. I still need to…”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you, Erin.”

 

Orm returned to Arkham Prison on the new motorcycle, enjoying the feel of it threading quickly through slow traffic and then leaning into the curves of the twisty, banked road that led back to the prison. It was an impulsive purchase, allowing him to be independent on his trips to and from Arkham.

The joy he’d found in it was unexpected. It drove entirely differently than anything he’d had before. Inertia and gravity and velocity felt entirely different on the surface. There was something refreshingly savage and cathartic in sitting atop a combustion engine and directly toying with the laws of physics.

He’d thought of getting one ever since he’d been delivered to New York, but he hadn’t followed through until now. Probably because some unconscious part of him had not wanted to find anything to enjoy on the surface. He liked to think he was too mature and disciplined to sulk, but he had certainly set his mind and heart against finding anything good here.

Back at the prison, Orm reported to his boss, Jeremiah Arkham, as usual. His job often consisted of hours of tedium broken by sharp moments of tension.

He would stand in the courtyard while prisoners had their state-mandated hour of outside “exercise.” He would stand in the corner of the treatment rooms while Arkham or another spoke to a prisoner and gauged their rehabilitation potential. He would stand in the mess hall where they were fed.

The prisoners noticed him right away, of course. They called him names... some made sense to him and others didn’t. It was easy to ignore their insults. Orm believed that the first step to criminality was disrespect for authority, so it was only natural. The only name that irked him slightly was a vulgar phrase that he now understood designated him as Arkham’s plaything. That one struck ever so slightly nearer to the truth.

They tested him, of course. Orm realized on his second day of work, while he patrolled the cafeteria, that all the other guards had somehow melted away. Two had escorted some of the prisoners to the library, one had stepped outside to speak to the cook, the other two he’d missed leaving, but they were definitely gone. A strange quiet filled the dining hall and Orm, without hurrying or undue discomfort, finished walking to the end of the row of tables and turned to put his back to the wall.

Five of the prisoners approached him at once. They were cocky until they got closer. Orm had sized them up and decided only two were real threats. Those two, probably sensing that Orm’s calm was real, sent the others in first. He incapacitated them neatly—barely more than a sprained wrist or broken finger in the lot. The other two came at him faster.

Orm spun into motion, using one’s velocity to swing him into his companion, tossing them both into the wall. He grabbed the second, and bashed his head into the cinderblocks again for good measure, and then twisted the first into a headlock. With them man in his grasp, Orm faced the room full of prisoners. He didn’t say anything, only made eye contact with those willing to look him in the face.

Message sent, he dropped the miscreant on the floor and continued his rounds.

He was certain Arkham had arranged for the little display. It was precisely the sort of thing Orm’s father would have done.

Now the men just called him Mike which had also not made sense to him until one of the prisoners, a man called Sticky Stan, told him it was for the archangel Michael. Orm supposed that was a compliment.

Today Orm stood in the corner as Jeremiah finished an aversion therapy treatment with one of the prisoners who used to be staff. Orm wasn’t at all sure what normal human prison or asylum statistics were, but the problems of staffing Arkham seemed to be rather extreme. This man, who now called himself Freud, used to be a staff psychiatrist. Apparently he’d taken to collecting pieces of his patients, from fingernail clippings to hair to toes...at which point he was relieved of duty and interred temporarily in the asylum portion of the grounds.

Today was fairly straight-forward, merely showing Freud pictures of the things he’d kept along with an electric shock. The shocks were designed to make his brain associate his collecting with pain and thus create an aversion.

Orm did not like being present at these treatments.

When it was over, Arkham nodded for Orm to escort Freud back to his padded cell. Freud was twitchy and jittery and his teeth were clenched.

Orm stood behind him, grabbed the handcuffs from the desk, and pulled him up. Orm got one jerking wrist back into the cuffs when suddenly the man twisted around and latched his free hand onto Orm’s wrist.

His eyes were bright and seemed to look past Orm into the air. “Oh. Now that’s a more pleasant personality than I’ve felt in a while. Does she remind you of your mother?”

Orm recoiled, but the man’s hand was stuck to him like glue.

“Do you want HER or do you just want to redeem your mother’s betrayal through this relationship?”

Orm grabbed the man’s wrist and wrenched it away from his own, losing a little skin to Freud’s claw-like grip. Orm twisted the man’s arm around until he could snap the other cuff on.

Arkham shook his head. “Dr. Fletcher, did this whole session make no headway? You’re already obsessing about a new patient.”

The man rubbed his fingertips together. Orm could almost imagine that he was somehow sensing Orm’s skin cells like sand. “But you haven’t felt what this one is like, Jeremiah. What is he called? Mike? He’s a treasure trove of subconscious trauma.”

“I suppose I ought not to have provided such a temptation so quickly.” Jeremiah sighed. “Lesson learned.”

Orm frog-marched Freud back to his cell, with the man muttering the whole way. It was deeply unsettling. Somehow from one touch the man new about Erin, at least somewhat. And he knew about Orm.

“Does she realize how much you hate yourself and your father?” Freud asked. “Does she know how much aggression you are sublimating? I would really have to meet her to diagnose the state of your behavioral progress. Often a loved one is a better source of day-to-day functioning than an exam. When can you bring her to my office?”

Orm knew the man was crazy, hence the asylum, but Orm’s blood still ran cold. “Don’t talk about her,” Orm demanded. “And if you ever touch her, I will kill you.”

“Death threats aren’t helpful. The doctor-patient relationship must be developed with mutual trust and respect...”

Orm shoved him into his cell and slammed the door behind him. There was no reason to be petrified, but now Erin, through this man’s crazy touch-knowledge, had been connected with this place and that was not alright.

Orm went to the bathroom and washed his hands and arms to the elbow, wanting to wash off the memory of Freud’s grip.

Jeremiah pulled him aside before he left that evening. “I hope old Fletcher didn’t get to you.”

Orm shook his head.

“Good. I hope you know, I take care of my own. That includes you and that includes Ms. Shaw, if she’s important to you.”

Orm knew Jeremiah had been following him since the escapee incident, but he hadn’t really considered that Jeremiah knew about Erin.

His immediate impulse was to deny it. “I’ve got my own place now. She’s out of the picture.”

Jeremiah laughed. “Sure. Of course. I understand.” He winked.

Orm disliked hearing Erin’s name on Arkham’s lips even more than Freud. He went home feeling nauseated and wishing he still lived with Erin so he could immediately know she was well.

 

Erin’s boss Alex had stopped by to deliver another contract, but really, she suspected, just to see if Orm was still there.

Without saying a word, it was clear that he was glad Orm was gone. He even managed to wrangle a dinner invitation, by prolonging their conversation until it was only polite to offer him some of their pasta. When the doorbell rang again, Alex was still seated at the table.

Erin was surprised to see Orm again so soon. She’d expected him to give her a few more days after the bombshells he’d thrown at lunch. Orm looked rather opaque, not giving any clue to his mood, and when he saw Alex, he got downright forbidding.

“What’s the matter?” Erin asked. “Did something happen?”

Orm looked from Alex to the door, clearly not wanting to talk in front of him. Erin was a little annoyed, but also truly concerned. Unexpected things happened around Orm, and if he wanted to tell her something, he probably had a reason.

“I guess you can come in. Have you eaten?”

Orm nodded.

“Well, help yourself to some water while we finish,” Erin said.

Erin went back to the table, and Orm didn’t say much beyond hello to Tommy but somehow he seemed to fill the apartment. He kicked off his shoes, got a big glass of water, and then grabbed a book and made himself comfortable on the couch. He wasn’t being obnoxious, exactly, but somehow everything he did seemed calculated to show Alex that this was Orm’s space.

They finished dinner quickly, somewhat awkwardly. Erin didn’t give Alex much of a chance to stay, nearly pushing him out the door when he offered to stay and help clean up.

When he’d finally walked away, Erin sent Tommy to take a bath and turned to Orm. “Alright. What is it? Why are you here?”

Orm put the book down and sat up. He’d actually put his feet up on the couch which she had NEVER seen him do before. He was laying the whole territorial thing on rather thick, she thought.

“I … needed to make sure you were well.”

Erin blinked. “That’s it? That’s what TEXTING is for. I thought something was wrong!”

“Clearly it was. What was that man doing here again?”

“He was just… no. I am not having this conversation.”

Orm stood. “He won’t even admit his affection. You shouldn’t trust him.”

“He said the same thing about you.”

“But—”

“Alex is harmless. That’s more than I can say about you.”

Orm froze for a second. “Fair enough. I’ll go now.”

Erin sighed. “Orm, just… tell me the truth. Did something happen this afternoon, after we talked?”

Orm paused in the doorway. His hand went to one wrist, which was scraped and red. It drew her eyes, especially as one of the only injuries she’d ever seen on him.

“No,” he said finally. “One of the inmates got in my head, but I shouldn’t have come here. Goodnight, Erin.”

 

Orm was on edge at Arkham for the rest of the week. He couldn’t get Erin out of his mind, both the things Freud said about her, and the image of her sitting at her table with Alex. That was his spot. His family. His… 

Except it wasn’t.

To add to his edginess, the prisoners were beginnning to treat him with a sort of pointed comraderie that made no sense.

“Hey Mike!”

“Come to rain judgement, Mikey?”

“Why so glum, man?”

Orm mostly ignored them, but he did wonder at the changing attitude. Was it possible that they’d learned he was almost one of them? Had Arkham let something slip? Or perhaps Freud had sensed something?

Jeremiah didn’t ask him to attend Freud again. In fact, Orm hardly saw Jeremiah all week. He knew they were finishing some part of the remodel and that kept the boss busy.

The inmates were rowdy. The guards were tense and cruel. The atmosphere was more than usually awful.

By the time Orm left at the end of the week, thankful to get on his motorcycle and let the wind blow away the stink of incarceration, he was desperate to see Erin. He hadn’t contacted her since that night. He knew he had no right to object to her seeing another man. And he knew, deep inside, that she didn’t view Alex as a suitor, or rival, or whatever word humans would use. The problem was, she didn’t seem to view Orm that way either.

Other than that one night when he’d kissed her, she had maintained a friendly distance. That was all well and good, he respected self-discipline, but what if it wasn’t self-discipline? After a week of silence, he had to wonder if she just didn’t really care that much about him.

He had told her he wouldn’t be angry if she didn’t want to see him again, and that was true as far as it went. He wasn’t angry with her, but he wasn’t at all resigned to walking away either. Perhaps it was because of his days at the prison, but all his protective instincts were kicking in. It was painful to be so far from her and Tommy for so long. He desperately wanted back into their life, even if only to assure himself each night as they went to bed that they were alright.

Orm’s pride kept him from texting Erin again that night, though he held his phone in his hand for a long time. When he fell asleep on his couch late that night, it was still in his hand.

And when he woke up, someone was pinning his wrist to the couch, sliding the phone out of his loosened grip.

Orm yelled and bucked, but seven dark figures surrounded and fell on him, effectively pinning him down. One of them must have some kind of cold power, because ice encased Orm’s feet, numbed them, and glued them to the floor. Another yanked a bag over his head, blinding him as well.

“Quiet, Mike, quiet,” one of the voices said. “We’re on your side, or we may be, if you’ll listen.”

Orm’s teeth ground together. “Freud? Stan? Who is that?”

A more sinister voice, one that Orm had certainly not heard before, took over. “Sticky Stan is a two-bit thief, and Freud’s a nut. I am Black Mask.”

Orm pictured the man with sharp teeth and stilled even further. “And what do you want?”

“I want your help. I want to destroy Jeremiah Arkham, and you’re going to help me do it.”

Orm flexed his muscles unobtrusively, trying to guage the weight of those on him and the strength of the ice. “How did you escape?”

“Never mind that. Just know that we’ll be back in our cells tomorrow, good as anything. And the next night, we’ll be out again. You can put us back, but we’ll just keep coming.”

“I’m not in the habit of betraying my employer.”

“Your employer? He would’ve clapped you up as soon as us. He thinks he’s curing us, but he’s every bit the sadist I am. Have they told you how he got started? He met a man robbing a convenience store and talked him out of it. He talked him out of it so hard the man put the gun to his head and blew his brains out. That’s when he decided to be a psychiatrist. That’s the kind of curing he does.”

Orm was silent.

“Better. Now Jeremiah seems to trust you. You have access to him. I don’t know your deal, but I know what makes a man tick.” The bag was torn off Orm’s head and he blinked at the light of a flashlight in his eyes. A phone was shoved in front of his face showing a picture of Erin and Tommy.

Orm reared back and threw off at least three before they piled onto him again. Ice now crept up his calves and webbed between his fingers.

“Calm down, Mike. Think it through. Do you think this is the first night we’ve been free?”

Orm felt as if the ice reached his stomach when Black Mask flicked through a few more photos. Erin sleeping in her bed with Black Mask only feet away. Tommy going to school with Clayface only steps behind him.

“Freud’s insane, but he’s useful. And he tells me that you’ll do almost anything for these two and that you’re no stranger to murder.”

Orm’s heart raced, but he didn’t allow his face to show anything.

“Now, just to be clear,” Black Mask continued, “we all have to get back to our cells during the day to keep up appearances. So you may be thinking to go spirit your little ones away. But we have outside friends watching her now. And we have a tracker as good as any you can find. Bloodhound.”

A lean, droopy man loomed over Orm momentarily, a unusually large nose marring his face. “He’ll find you anywhere you run.”

“I don’t run,” Orm said simply. “You want me to murder Arkham?”

“We’ll settle for you delivering him to us.”

Before Orm could answer, the ice spiderwebbed up his arms and sealed his lips.

“That’ll melt before morning,” Black Mask said. “Hopefully you’ll have time to choose well before it does.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Climax of the story! Orm learns something about family. Also, Mr. Freeze and the others are DC property, but it was a lot of fun to write a male Elsa!
> 
> Recap: We just left Orm after Black Mask's gang threatened him to deliver Mr. Arkham to them. They left him frozen in his apartment to think it over. Now we jump back to Erin and her miserable week after she kicked Orm out for getting jealous about her boss.

Erin was anxious and uneasy and tired by the end of the week without Orm. Not contacting him was an act of will every free moment of the day. During work she could lose herself in details and listings, showings and advertising, but during her breaks and evenings when she sat alone after Tommy was in bed, it was very hard not to call him.

How had he gotten into her life so thoroughly in a few weeks? Barely a month since that awful day in the high-rise, and not talking to Orm was destroying her peace of mind. Despite all that, she held onto her conviction that she needed to put their relationship—whatever it was—onto some kind of normal footing. Even if he was a perfectly average guy, she wouldn’t be calling or texting, let alone SEEING him, every day. She wasn’t pushing him away because he was an ecoterrorist (somehow that word bothered her less than the other), or because he was an Atlantean (what did that even entail?), but because he’d become something more than a friend so quickly, it had given her whiplash.

She’d realized, when Orm tried to warn her not to see Alex, that despite her best efforts, she’d let things go too far, too fast. In short, she’d decided not to call Orm until Saturday, and she stuck to it despite the ache that seemed to settle deeper and deeper into her heart as each day passed.

It didn’t help that she also felt exposed and vulnerable without him. She was a self-sufficient single mom who’d lived in New York most of her adult life. Now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t walk to the kitchen to get a drink of water without looking over her shoulder. When she used the bathroom Thursday night, she could’ve sworn she saw a shadow behind the shower curtain. Her heart had lunged into her throat and she’d stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed the door before getting a hold of herself. She turned on the hall light and opened the door and of course the tub was empty. But she hadn’t slept much more that night.

She asked her babysitter to pick Tommy up right when his summer school was out, so he wouldn’t have any time to wait or wander about. Erin’s own commute had grown tense. She had the constant sense of being followed and watched.

She knew she was indulging groundless anxiety, but it felt too real to ignore. That was another reason she didn’t call Orm. A couple weeks of him in the apartment and she no longer felt safe alone! She couldn’t let any man become necessary to her comfort. Could she?

Saturday morning, Erin barely waited until she and Tommy had their Saturday morning cereal to give him a call.

When he answered, his voice sounded a little slurred.

“Orm, is that you? Are you alright?”

There was a slight pause. “I’m f-fine,” he managed. “Are you a-alright?”

“Are you shivering? Oh no, did you get sick? I bet we have all kinds of germs you haven’t been exposed to.”

“No. Not sick.” He cleared his throat but it didn’t sound good.

“You liar, you are totally sick. Do you not get colds in Atlantis? Look, Tommy and I are going to grab you some Tylenol and stuff and drop it off in an hour.”

“Erin—”

“Does Tylenol work on you? I’ll get extra-strength.”

“Erin—”

“No complaining. Be there in a few.”

 

Orm stiffly dropped the phone onto his lap. His arms and face were thawed, and he’d just cracked the stiff ice around his feet. He’d thought, as an Atlantean, that extreme cold wouldn’t affect him so badly. Apparently there was a large difference between nearly freezing water and deeply frozen ice.

He’d had a lot of (uncomfortable) time to think, and he hated how many variables he didn’t know. How many prisoners were getting in and out of the prison? For how long? How many friends did they have watching Erin and Tommy? Or was that a bluff to keep him in line?

For safety’s sake, he couldn’t assume it was a lie.

His first instinct was to go immediately to Erin and Tommy, or to tell them to stay far away from him, but neither solved the problem. He needed to find out how those men were getting in and out; he needed to lock them up for good.

Turning over Mr. Arkham to them was not an option. Orm had no particular liking for the man, but Orm had been hired to protect him. Orm would sooner deliver himself to these men than betray the person who employed him. Orm had issues with betrayal.

But he couldn’t just barge into the prison demanding that they all be locked in new rooms or chained to the walls. Did they have guards on their payroll? Did they have some work-around to the locks?

Orm rubbed his numb legs and forced himself painfully to his feet.

His phone buzzed and he used stiff fingers to respond, wondering if Erin was texting now.

It was a text, but not from Erin.

“You can play the sick card with Ms. Shaw if you want. We don’t care, as long as you don’t tell her anything. Bring Mr. Arkham to the top floor of your old apartment building tonight. 8pm.”

How did they know what she’d said? He was starting to get very angry.

Too many variables. 

Getting Erin and Tommy somewhere safe was the first priority.

Orm grabbed his keys.

 

Erin left the drugstore with probably more than Orm actually needed, granola bars and juice as well as medicine, but it made her feel good to do something helpful for him. Most of his ills were far beyond her ability to help, but this was something she understood. The air was muggy and warm, and the sun was obscured by high clouds and haze.

She had that same sense of being followed, but she tried to shake it off as she and Tommy merged into the Saturday morning foot traffic that was already picking up.

Squealing tires came up behind them. Erin jumped and dropped her bag. She jerked Tommy further from the road. A motorcycle slammed to a stop right next to them and the driver flicked up the visor on his helmet.

“Orm?” Erin exclaimed. “What are you—”

“I need you to come.” As he spoke, he grabbed Tommy and slung him onto the motorcycle in front of him, straddling the bike between his legs. He pulled Erin’s arm until she was half over the back of the bike.

“I can’t—”

Orm kicked his foot backwards, smacking her ankle and making her wobble on one foot. The bike began to roll and with Orm holding her arm, Erin had no choice but to throw her leg over the back and grab on to him. That or get drug behind.

The whole thing only took a matter of seconds, and Erin screamed as the bike sped up so fast she thought for sure she would fall off. Orm’s grip was like iron on her arm until she’d cinched her hands around his waist.

“What are you doing?” she yelled. The engine of the motorcycle roared and the wind tore her words away. She couldn’t even tell if he tried to answer. All she could see of Tommy was his little knees poking out to either side.

Erin was furious, but also terrified. She was too busy holding on to think through the possibilities, but she knew two things. Orm was desperate, and a desperate Orm would be completely unpredictable.

 

Orm weaved in and out of traffic, watching ahead and keeping an eye on his mirrors to see what kind of pursuit there would be. He was hoping if he snatched Erin and Tommy fast enough, their tail wouldn’t be able to follow.

Orm drove them north, and by the time they’d driven for thirty minutes, he was as sure as he could be that no one was following them. They were still in the boroughs of New York City, and Orm didn’t want to stop just anywhere. He found a school, empty on a Saturday, and drove through the empty parking area, up onto the sidewalk, and then around to the back of the school where they wouldn’t be visible from the road.

When the bike was fully stopped and the stand engaged, he finally turned off the deafening engine. Erin slid off at once, staggering unsteadily. Orm lifted Tommy off and then swung his own leg over, removing his helmet and setting it on the seat.

Erin struck his chest with both hands. “That was insanely dangerous! How dare you? What was that?”

Orm grabbed her hands. “I had to.”

She tried to pull her hands free. “Why? You scared us to death and you couldn’t even—”

Orm kissed her. He knew it was a mistake. She was frightened and angry, but he was so relieved that they were here and safe… he couldn’t stop himself.

Erin slapped him and that jolted Orm back to his senses.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his lips. “A group of Arkham inmates hatched a plot to make me bring Mr. Arkham to them. They were using you and Tommy as… collateral.”

Erin swiped angry tears out of her eyes. She believed him, of course she did. Unless Orm had completely snapped, he must have some reason for this daylight abduction. Believing him didn’t change the adrenaline and fear still pumping through her system.

“Are you okay, Tommy?” Erin demanded.

He was blinking at them, dazed, but taking it in stride the way little boys did. “I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” he said.

Orm pulled him into a hug. “You’re a strong-hearted little boy.”

“Does that mean brave?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. Brave and tough.”

“I’m not that tough.”

“Well. Tough enough.”

Erin sagged against the brick wall of the school, rubbing the rough edges with her fingertips. “Okay. We’re collateral. What now? The police?”

Orm shook his head. “These men are… not normal. I wouldn’t trust a police station to protect you.”

“Not normal like you? Are they Atlantean?” Tommy asked.

“No,” Orm said with disgust. “Definitely not.”

“What about Aquaman? Or Batman?” Tommy bounced on his feet. “They could help and I really want to meet Batman!”

“I’m not sure that…” Erin saw the conflict in Orm’s whole body. Orm was an outcast king, a loner of loners. She wasn’t sure what it would cost him to ask for help.

He held out his hand. “May I use your phone? I left mine behind, in case they were tracking it.”

 

Orm had memorized the contact number for his brother. He called it now, and tried to formulate a message. No one answered, which he expected. There were a hundred things to keep them busy. He tried and discarded several explanations.

“It’s Orm,” he said finally. “I need your help.”

“My mom lives another hour north of here,” Erin said quietly. “Maybe you should take us there.”

“Your mother?” Somehow Orm hadn’t thought much about Erin’s family. She and Tommy seemed, in a way, just as adrift as he was, but of course that wasn’t true. They didn’t need him the way he needed them.

“These men have a tracker,” Orm explained, “they may be able to follow you there.”

Erin hugged herself. “What kind of tracker? Should I ditch my phone?”

Orm frowned. “Maybe, but that’s not what I meant. Their man tracks by smell.” Orm hesitated to add to Erin’s fear, but she deserved the truth. “I think he’s been in your apartment. I know at least one of them has.”

Erin’s eyes shut and her whole body shuddered. “There probably WAS somebody in the bathroom that night. Ugh.”

Orm wanted to comfort her, to pull her close and hold her until the chill of being watched abated, but she held up a hand to keep him away. It physically hurt to stand there while she pulled herself back together.

“What about just Tommy then? What about taking him to my mother?” she gestured between herself and Orm. “I assume I’m the— I mean, if they’re trying to control you—”

“They’ll probably ignore his scent in favor of yours… In fact, almost certainly, if they know you’re with me. But you and I can’t go to her house. They could follow that.”

“Does it matter that I want to stay with you?” Tommy asked, as if he already knew the answer. “Both of you.”

“It does matter.” Erin rubbed his head. “But with something like this… I need you to be safe.”

“What about you?”

Her eyes darted to Orm’s for a second. “Orm will take care of me, but asking him to deal with both of us is kind of a lot.”

Orm squeezed Tommy’s hand. “Would it help if I promise to introduce you to Aquaman someday?”

Tommy grinned. “Make it Batman and I’ll convince Nana this was all my idea.”

 

Erin asked Orm to stay out of sight when her mom arrived at the school. He didn’t know what explanation they offered her mother for the strange arrangement, but Erin came back around the corner of the building alone and squared her shoulders.

“Okay. This is not your fault. It really isn’t. But here’s my deal. I do not want my mother to raise Tommy; I want to raise Tommy.”

“Absolutely.”

“So, what do we do? Can we afford to wait on your brother?” She didn’t sound too optimistic about that, and frankly, he didn’t feel too optimistic about it either. His brother wouldn’t ignore him—self-preservation would ensure that—but when and how much help he might offer was anyone’s guess.

“It all centers on the prison,” Orm said. “I need to find out how they’re getting in and out without setting off alarms.”

“Why not just leave?” Erin asked. “If they can get out, can’t they just disappear?”

Orm rubbed his neck. “They don’t strike me as the sanest crew. They have a vendetta against Arkham.”

“Would he be at the prison today?” Erin asked.

“Probably. He usually is, from what I can tell.” Orm closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus. “If they know that you and Tommy are with me, which they do, they’ll assume I’m bailing on them. They’ll try to track us down. In fact, I didn’t recognize Bloodhound, so he may be an outside guy. In which case, he’s already tracking us.” Orm handed his helmet to Erin.

“So we can’t stay here, but where do we go?”

Orm opened the saddle bag on his motorcycle. Since he’d finally been able to get his clothing shipped from his old apartment, he’d grabbed several of his Atlantean hauberks – the tunic part of his practice armor. He pulled one out and visually measured the other for Erin’s torso.

His instinct told him to face the threat head on. Better to call Black Mask’s dare and go to the prison and alert Arkham. Then Orm would have Mr. Arkham and whatever guards he could muster on his side if it came to a fight. Surely not ALL the guards were involved. Orm was a leader of armies, to him it made sense to go where there was backup. It also made more sense to him to walk towards a battle than to try to hide out and wait to be tracked down like prey.

He didn’t want to take Erin to the prison, but his instinct (and his mind and heart) also told him he couldn’t leave her behind. Short of his brother, there was no one else he would trust to protect her. The tunic would be large on her, but it would essentially be a bullet-proof vest if it came to that. She wouldn’t be able to ride with it though, so he stowed that one for now, and pulled the other on over his T-shirt.

“Do you trust me?” Orm asked, holding out his hand for her to mount the motorcycle.

Erin gave him a look. “Have you seen Aladdin?”

“No. What is that?”

“Nothing. Orm…” she sighed. “Yes. I guess I do.”

Despite the danger, Orm couldn’t help but grin at her admission.

“Don’t get too excited,” Erin cautioned. “I’m not saying I trust you to be my… I mean, this is a very particular kind of problem that I trust you with.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

 

Orm had outlined the plan, so when they arrived at Arkham, Erin knew what to expect. He’d approached on the far side of the prison, and they’d walked in on foot. Erin wore the strange armored shirt he’d brought. It wasn’t solid exactly. The chain mail or scales or whatever gave like cloth, but rather stiff cloth. And it was heavy and hot.

The clouds were getting thicker overhead and Erin wondered if they were in for a summer thunderstorm. That would be perfect.

They were near the back corner of the prison now, and Erin could hear the construction equipment in the courtyard. It sounded like a jackhammer was competing with a backhoe to make a huge racket. Frankly, she and Orm could hold a shouted conversation here and no one would be the wiser.

Loops of barbed wire bordered the top of the wall, and video cameras swiveled at short intervals. Orm looked it over, though Erin didn’t know if he was looking for video gaps, hidden tunnels, sudden inspiration, or what.

Orm led her back to where it was a bit quieter, and asked for her phone. With it, he called Mr. Arkham. Erin was glad he memorized numbers, because he was certainly the only person she knew who did.

Erin could only hear his side of the conversation. He briefly laid out the situation as he understood it, emphasizing that he suspected Arkham’s phone was tapped, and so he would only have a minutes to make his decisions and decide who to trust.

She wondered if Mr. Arkham was capable of that, or if Orm was judging the man’s leadership and decision-making ability on what his own would be.

“If you have even twenty guards you know you can trust—” He broke off. “Ten? Five?” Orm’s lip curled in disgust. “How do you hire these people?”

Now Mr. Arkham’s voice got loud enough for Erin to hear. “I hired YOU to protect me. Are you going to do it, or not?”

“I am. I’ll come to you. But you need to lock down all public areas: cafeteria, library, gym, laundry… all of it. If this turns into a battle—a riot, I mean—controlling the flow of combatants is key.”

“I need to get out of here,” Arkham said. “If it’s me they’re after, I need to get out. Do you know what Black Mask has done? How many people he’s slaughtered?”

Orm looked vaguely ill. “You would just leave your men there alone…?” He shook his head sharply. “Alright. Your decision. Lock down the community spaces until I get there. I have the override key you gave me.”

He hung up. “And he calls himself a leader… I will never understand humans. But I suppose this simplifies things for us. I’m going to extract him and we’ll slip away.”

He led Erin quickly to the side of the parking lot where two armored vans were parked. “These have bullet-proof windows and reinforced steel frames. Stay out of sight, doors locked.”

He thought for a moment, then used his hand to crack open the steering column under the steering wheel. He ducked his head under to study the wires, then gently pulled the two-wires into sight that would hot-wire the car, stripping the plastic sheath with his fingernails. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, tap these wires together until the car starts and drive straight out of here. Even if the gate is down, this vehicle can break through.”

“How on Earth did you learn to do that?”

His smile flashed. “YouTube. Your idea.”

 

Orm ran through the front gate and into the prison grounds just as the automatic metal grate slammed down. He could already hear the subdued alarms that indicated a temporary lock down. He supposed if Mr. Arkham wanted to test some of his new systems, this was one way to do it.

The construction guys were not cool with this development. They were looking around nervously, as if they expected to see flames or smoke or deranged psychos coming at them. When the front gate slide down, most of them jogged his way.

“Mike! They can’t trap us in here if there’s a problem, can they? Let us out, dude.”

Orm hesitated. He had no reason to think the construction crew was involved. Most of them were young guys who worked for the local contractor and had nothing to do with Arkham. The ruthless part of him said to keep them in reserve. If they were locked in the courtyard, they would fight to defend themselves if necessary, which would make them useful to Orm.

The other part of him, perhaps the kingly part of him his mother had fostered, said it was unjust to risk their lives for a fight that was not their fault or their doing.

Orm backtracked with a frustrated grunt. He yelled for the rest of the crew to come quickly.

“I’m closing it in 90 seconds.” He stuck his keycard in the slot and the gate slid halfway up. The construction crew lost no time, pouring through the gate and into the parking lot.

Orm removed his key when they were out and the gate slammed back down. It was one of Arkham’s security policies that a single key opened a single gate at a time. That way, if one of the cards fell into the wrong hands, they couldn’t just run through the prison, leaving an open path behind them. He watched for a moment to see if any of the crew acted oddly, particularly if any of them had seen him leave Erin in the armored van, but they all headed as a herd toward the far parking lot where they parked their own cars.

Orm redoubled his time going through the prison, though the gates slowed him down.

At first he thought things might be alright. Maybe he had overestimated the threat. But as he got to the top of the stairs (elevators were shut off during lockdown), and looked down the dark hall that housed the most dangerous criminals of Arkham, he was certain something was off.

He also wondered for the first time why on Earth Mr. Arkham’s office was at the end of this gauntlet of horror.

Orm went to the first door and looked in. The room was empty.

That was not good. He ran down the hallway, alert for ambush. It still hadn’t happened by the time he got to Mr. Arkham’s office. Orm announced himself loudly as he unlocked the door. He wasn’t eager to be greeted by a sawed-off shotgun or whatever weapon Mr. Arkham might have hidden in his office.  
Mr. Arkham was flushed and sweaty, but safe and alone. “Finally,” he said.

Orm bit back a harsh reply. “Let’s go.”

Mr. Arkham hesitated in the doorway. “Are you sure it’s safe?”  
Orm grabbed his arm. “No, I’m not. We need to keep moving.”  
Mr. Arkham kept muttering as they backtracked to the entrance. “This section was remodeled first. Black Mask must have paid off the architect. I KNEW he still had access to his accounts…”

Mr. Arkham stopped outside one of the high-security rooms and tried the door. “Locked, but empty. How can that be? Is it just me or is that wall tilted by several inches? The bastard must have put in a tunnel!”

Orm glanced in, but he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “I don’t know. We’ve got to go.” He tugged on Mr. Arkham, and all but drug him to the stairs, down, and into the courtyard.

Still no sign of Black Mask and the others, but finally there were several guards. “The west wing rooms are empty,” Orm told them. “You’ll need to sweep the grounds right away, and issue an alert to city and county police. They must’ve already got out.”

The guards looked toward their boss.

“This is what you’re paid for,” he said, with a decent attempt at authority. “Protect me. Do your job.”

They looked grimmer than ever and shook out their batons.

“Wow.” Orm pushed Arkham behind him. “You’re not even going to pretend to look for the escapees…?”

Orm made relatively short work of the fight. They were just regular people, and not terribly well-trained, so it was not too difficult. One of the men got in a lucky hit behind his ear, however, which left him a little dazed.

“I didn’t think they’d turn on me like that.” Arkham turned back as if he’d re-enter the prison. ”You’re right, what kind of person am I—”

“We don’t have time for this!” Orm jerked on Arkham yet again.

The two of them left the prison, alarms still wailing, and jumped into the armored car.

Arkham jumped when Erin popped in from behind. “What the hell are you doing here?” For a second, he looked more frightened than he had inside.

“We’re rescuing you,” Erin said coldly. “Do you have keys?”

Arkham did, so hot-wiring wasn’t necessary. Erin drove—Orm wasn’t terribly experienced with cars yet—and she kept glancing nervously at Arkham as she sped down the long private lane that led back to the main road.

 

Erin was relieved to be leaving the prison, of course, but she knew they were not out of danger. Orm had said the prisoners he was worried about were gone, which meant… they must be desperate. Their secret escape route was no longer secret, so they must be angry, too.

Orm directed her to the nearest train station where they ditched the conspicuous vehicle and took a south-bound train.

Erin leaned her head against the window. The rattling of the train felt so familiar and comforting. At least for this moment, no one could know where they were or where they were going. (Especially since they didn’t know themselves.) That was a comforting thought.

Mr. Arkham was feeling more confident again, and he apologized to Orm for screaming at him. “And you must be Erin Shaw, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Erin shook his hand reluctantly. She didn’t like him. It probably wasn’t fair to judge someone based on their actions under enormous pressure, but well, she didn’t have much else to work with.

Orm explained everything to him as the train carried them back into the city.

Arkham looked thoughtful. “What if we… what if we go through with it? Do you think Black Mask would still meet us there at 8?”

“I doubt it. He knows I’m not playing by his rulebook. That’s why they blew their cover and ran.”

“But…” Mr. Arkham was starting to look excited. “But what if you contact them and say that you’re willing to do your part of the job to protect Ms. Shaw and her son? You tried to do it your way and they escaped. Tell them you’re willing to deliver me if it ensures their future safety.”

“But I’m not willing,” Orm said. “And it wouldn’t ensure their future safety.”

“Yes, but… don’t you see? We just need them to believe it. We MUST catch these men. My entire professional reputation is at stake. If they show up, I have a chance. I’ll call in my contacts with the police and have them alert Batman, then we’ll be able to catch them all.”

Orm looked dubious. “You’re willing to risk your life on that?”

Arkham had the grace to look ashamed. “I know I went to pieces when you called. The surprise, the tension, the unknown… I reacted badly. But I’ve devoted my life to the rehabilitation and recovery of the mentally unbalanced. I could never let such people run loose if I had it in my power to prevent them. It goes against everything I believe.”

Erin couldn’t help but hear the sincerity in his voice. Orm seemed to hear it also.

“Very well. I’ll see if I can convince them that we’ll be there. They’re bound to think it’s a trap, however. I can’t imagine they’ll go for it.”

Mr. Arkham shook his head. “But why? You SHOULD be concerned for Ms. Shaw. Do you know what Black Mask is capable of?” He told them, in somewhat unnecessarily gruesome detail, Erin felt, and almost as if he delighted in how horrible the man was. Especially since Black Mask’s previous murder sprees had leaned heavily towards women.

“Every mark on his body is a murder,” Arkham continued. “He’s a torturer, a cat-and-mouse killer, a psychopath. You don’t want a man like that focusing on Erin.”

Orm didn’t respond to this, but opened Erin’s phone and began to type.

Erin caught a flash of something in Mr. Arkham’s eyes. Anticipation? Anxiety? Greed? She REALLY didn’t like this guy.

 

Orm had not responded to Mr. Arkham’s sinister little speech about Black Mask. Black Mask was undoubtedly evil, but why was Mr. Arkham suddenly so brave about it all?

Orm didn’t like what he didn’t understand, and this whole situation fell in that category.

“I have Mr. Arkham and the Shaws,” Orm typed. “You don’t have any cards left to play. What next?”

He didn’t wait long.

“You could have made it so easy. You think we’ll just disappear? She’ll never be safe from us. You sided with the devil and you’ll pay for it.”

Orm sighed at the predictability and stupidity of evil. “You’d have to come through me.”

“We will. Goodbye, Ocean Master.”

“Wait,” he typed. Orm tried to decide how to play this so it sounded even remotely genuine. “I’m not overflowing with love for Arkham either. He’s cowardly, arrogant, and cruel. But how do I know you’ll hold up your side of the bargain?”

The insults came easily. Orm DID think poorly of Arkham, so that was as genuine as it needed to be.

“If you’re for us, we’re for you. We don’t turn on each other. We understand loyalty.”

“Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could get him up to that apartment. I already told him your plan.”

“A show of faith on both parts then. Pick a location. We’ll pick a time.”

“Lower Manhattan. Dock 7 warehouse,” Orm sent.

“Half an hour.”

“We’re too far away. An hour,” Orm counter-offered. Could Arkham get his support together that quickly?

“30 minutes. That’s the deal.”

Orm cursed in Atlantean, and explained to Erin and Mr. Arkham.

“The docks? Half an hour? But that’s…” Arkham paused then nodded decisively. “If that’s what it’s got to be, I’ll make it happen.”

He began making calls like crazy. He spoke quietly, almost whispering, but Orm heard words about backup, ambush, hostage, and Batman. Could Arkham’s crazy plan succeed with so little time?

Orm shifted over to sit by Erin. “We need to transfer to the green line to get there.”

Orm had gone to the docks before. Many times during those first few angry months on the surface. It seemed to him to symbolize everything that was wrong with the world—the ocean and the surface. The huge ships with their square mountains of containers lay in the harbor like unfinished bridges. The docks jutted arrogantly into the water, owning it but not beginning to touch the mass of water that resided even in this relatively small harbor. Trash floated in the shallows, and smoke belched from the ships. It was an ugly place, to him, but as it happened, Dock 7 was owned by Wayne Enterprises, and Arthur had an arrangement with Batman. It was a relatively safe space for Atlantean vessels to unload passengers or cargo. Not that Orm was at all sure Arthur would come…

A nostalgic smile lit Erin’s face. “My dad worked at the docks. Haven’t been by in a long while.”

“Your father?” Orm was again surprised, and a little ashamed of how he’d judged those who worked there.

“Yeah. Back when that kind of job paid enough to live in Brooklyn. He said he liked a place where hard work actually paid off and the view wasn’t bad either…” Erin shook herself out of the memory. “What’s the matter?”

Orm closed his mouth. He kept thinking his relationship with Erin could happen in isolation… that they were both islands in the vast ocean of New York, but that wasn’t true. She had all sorts of spider-webbed connections to the surface, and if he was going to accept her, he would have to accept that too.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Orm said. “Or rather, only the obvious thing: where you should go during this rendezvous.”

“I wish I had a gun,” Erin said.

Orm blinked at her as the train rushed from the lighted tracks into a dark tunnel. “You wish you had what?”

“A gun. Did I—I guess I never told you that my husband was in the army?”

“No.” It made sense though. Erin seemed like the wife of a man of action.

Erin looked away. The lights flickered over her face. “I gave his guns to his friends when he died— I didn’t want to keep them with Tommy in the house, learning to walk and starting to get into things. But when my husband was home on leave, we would often go to the shooting range on Saturdays and…” Erin trailed off. “Anyway, I’m a pretty decent shot. I’m not sure it would translate to real life, but I’d feel better.”

Orm wasn’t sure what to say. The thought of Erin wielding a weapon was both attractive and horrifying. He hadn’t worried for Mera, in the conflicts before she betrayed him, because he knew she was as tough as any Xebel warrior. Erin was far more fragile. “I don’t…”

“Never mind,” Erin said quickly, jerking her head to point out that Mr. Arkham was off the phone.

Mr. Arkham cracked his knuckles. “I’ve arranged quite the party for Dock 7. Almost ready to switch trains, yes?”

Orm nodded slowly, still looking at Erin.

Mr. Arkham continued. “Now where should we stash Ms. Shaw for the next hour? She can’t come, obviously.”

Erin bristled at the way he spoke over her. “I’m right here.”

Orm grimaced. “I hate to… separate, but he’s probably right about this part.”

Arkham gave an oily smile. “I have several apartments. She could—”

“No,” Orm and Erin both snapped at the same time.

He raised his hands. “Fine, fine. Not my best idea.”

Erin checked the time. “What if I just… stay on the trains? This should all go down in the next hour or two. Even if this nosey person is tracking me, I could switch trains every so often, erratically. You let me know when it’s over.”

“I like it,” Mr. Arkham said.

That alone almost made Orm decide against it, but he had to admit it was a decent plan. Erin knew the train system well. It provided multiple paths and escape routes. Witnesses.

“Alright,” Orm said. When the train slid into the next stop, they all three exited.

Erin pointed at a tunnel. “I’ll go on the red line for a few stops. Be… safe.”

Orm had never been afraid of a fight, never afraid of a loss. Now he wondered if that was only because, after his mother, he never had anyone to lose. He grabbed Erin’s face and pressed his forehead to hers. “YOU be safe. Please.” He wasn’t sure if the please was for her or to the powers that be to protect her.

Arkham cleared his throat and Orm let her go. Erin turned without any more words and disappeared a different direction.

 

As they approached the Dock 7 warehouse, Orm clutched Arkham’s upper arm, as if he were leading and forcing the man to go where he wanted. Orm assumed some of Black Mask’s gang would be watching.

Mr. Arkham muttered. “The police will be in the neighboring warehouses. Plain cars. They’ll wait until I send the message that Black Mask is there. Helicopters on standby. Batman… if he can be bothered. His senile old handler said he’d try to get ahold of him.”

Orm didn’t respond. Mr. Arkham had given him a quick rundown of the gang’s abilities, and Orm was feeling the adrenaline that came with a far from certain fight. Clayface and Raggedy Man he’d faced already, but then they were alone then and not expecting him. The ice guy, Mr. Freeze, would probably be Orm’s major problem. Black Mask himself didn’t seem to have any special powers. 

Orm couldn’t afford to think about Erin, he had to be all here.

In the dim light of the warehouse, Orm and Mr. Arkham moved between rows of metal shipping containers, towers of wooden pallets, and parked rows of pallet jacks, forklifts, and pumps.

“You brought him.”

The voice, coming from somewhere above him, stopped Orm in his tracks. They’d reached a four-way intersection. Orm looked up to see Black Mask leap off the top of the metal scaffolding and land just in front of them. It was a jarring fall that would have shaken a normal man, but Black Mask barely even bent his knees. Interesting.

Mr. Arkham flinched, quite believably. “Orm, if you turn me over to him, you’ll never get away with it.”

Orm wanted to roll his eyes. This kind of play-acting was not for him. He wanted to cut to the end.

“I brought him.” Orm said, shortly. He jerked Mr. Arkham backward a half-step at the same time. “And you’re going to convince me that leaving him will ensure Erin and Tommy’s safety or I walk away.”

A wash of cold against Orm’s back made him tense onto the balls of his feet.

“There’s no walking away now,” Black Mask said.

A glance over Orm’s shoulder showed four of the gang coming up behind him.

Two more were high up on the scaffolding still.

Orm squeezed Mr. Arkham’s arm. Orm was pretty sure this was as good a chance as they were going to get. Most of the gang had shown themselves. If Orm had to track down a few more on his own, so be it. It was time to call in the authorities.

Mr. Arkham gave no visible sign, but his hand in his other pocket was surely hitting the send button.

“Good faith?” Black Mask scoffed. “You’re awfully high and mighty for a man who’s just betrayed his boss.”

Before the words were totally out of his mouth, the warehouse burst into light and motion. Doors on the periphery slammed open and policemen swarmed through. A window crashed in and a figure in a black suit, with wings, swooped toward them. A SWAT truck burst through a loading bay on the harbor side, crumpling the aluminum retractable door.

Orm grabbed Mr. Arkham and pulled him to a narrow opening between two forklifts. He didn’t want any of the gang to get ahold of the man and use him as a human shield or hostage. Clayface grunted and came for them. His arm seemed to shift like sand or mud and then it turned into a sledgehammer. He swung at Orm who ducked, pulling Arkham down with him. The sledgehammer hit the forklift with a crash, and Orm rammed into the man’s stomach, knocking him off balance. The sledgehammer swung a deadly arc back towards him, but this time Orm was ready. He grabbed it and continued the swing, using Clayface’s own momentum to whiplash him into the engine compartment of the next vehicle. It rang like a gong, and Clayface staggered and then fell to the ground, out like a light.

That wasn’t too bad. Orm surveyed the fight in the blink of an eye.

The bat person, the man who must be Arthur’s friend Bruce, was battling Black Mask. He seemed to be holding his own. The cops had three of the others on the ground, but at least two policemen were frozen in place. Another seized up in mid-run as Orm watched.

Mr. Freeze, a tall black guy with a shock of white hair and eyes, stalked toward them. The police pointed weapons at him, shouting, but their guns only clicked when they tried to fire and the metal grew frosty with cold.

His eyes zeroed in on Orm, where he stood in the gap, shielding Arkham. He diverted toward them, and Orm thought quickly. If the man got in too close, he could freeze Orm to the ground. A close fight with this opponent was a no-win situation. “We have to get out of here. I’ll distract him, you get to the police.”

Orm spotted a tool in the cab of the forklift and grabbed it. It was a metal rod, about four feet long with some strange hinges on the bottom. It was too light for a trident, but it was strong and it was better than nothing. He strode toward Mr. Freeze, meeting him in a few steps, and already plunging with his makeshift trident. The reach was a little off, but he still got in a solid thump before dodging to the side.

Where Orm’s feet had just been, jagged icicles plunged upward like knives. No time to think of how painful that would’ve been. Orm kept up the fight like a dance, swinging and moving, never keeping his feet planted for more than half a second. Always Mr. Freeze tried to move toward Mr. Arkham and Orm would block and parry. Sometimes he missed and sometimes he connected. He realized at some point that his hand was frozen to the rod, but no time to think about that.

Orm was a warrior. A machine. He lived for these moments.

 

Erin gripped the handlebars of the jet ski, cautiously approaching the docks of lower Manhattan. She’d meant to stay on the trains, at least when she’d first suggested it. She was the one who’d told Orm how serious she was about staying alive and out of danger for heaven’s sake!

But not long after they’d separated, she was fed up with herself. She hated this. She needed to know what was happening. She wouldn’t interfere with the police ambush, of course… but she KNEW those docks. How could she get over there and yet stay out of the way?

On the water, that’s how. Erin knew it was dangerous to go into the shipping lanes in a one-person craft, but she was pretty good at this and more than willing to risk it. And if the Coast Guard picked her up, she’d play ignorant and pay the fine.

Erin buzzed into the rectangular channel between docks 7 and 8. This was about the closest she’d be able to get to the warehouse Orm had described. There wasn’t a ship on either side, so the water was a calm dark blue. The docks themselves, the platforms for unloading and loading the huge container ships that landed here, were high over her head. She navigated to the closest ladder and killed the engine just underneath it. Erin smiled as she reached up and grabbed the rungs. It felt so much better to be doing something—anything—than just waiting.

 

Did Mr. Freeze ever tire? Orm was Atlantean strong, but he was starting to flag. One of the icicles ripped through his pants, digging a painful furrow in his calf. The same foot went numb with cold and Orm stumbled. His balance was off, and without feeling in that foot, he was seriously compromised. Mr. Freeze pressed the advantage.

Without warning, a blur of gold and green hurtled past Orm. It was Arthur. With his golden trident, he shoved Orm’s opponent backwards until the man’s head connected with the metal container behind him. Arthur’s trident was at his neck. Orm could see ice trying to climb the weapon, trying to adhere to Arthur’s armor. Tendrils of ice and then vapor hissed up and down the length of it.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “The ocean laughs at ice.”

Mr. Freeze’s eyes grew wide. Arthur withdrew the trident, measured the man with his eyes, then headbutted him ferociously. It made Orm’s eyes water just to watch. Mr. Freeze crumpled to the ground and Arthur turned around with a savage smile.

Orm huffed out a breath of shock. “You came…”

Black Mask was hog-tied not far away. Arkham was surrounded by policemen. The other men of the gang had been subdued.

Batman strode toward Orm, who nodded at him, tiredly. “Arkham told me that—”

Batman landed a punishing hit on Orm’s jaw. Taken by surprise, Orm spun to the side. Batman followed up with an elbow to the kidney, and Orm gasped in pain. His numb foot didn’t support the sudden step, and Orm was down on one knee. Batman twisted Orm’s arm behind him, painfully, and held him taut.

“What the hell?” Arthur demanded.

Orm tried to throw off the grueling hold, but he had no leverage from his knees. “What the hell?” he repeated.

“Surrender,” Batman commanded. “Orm Marius, stand down.”

 

Erin clambered over the top of the ladder, getting her feet on the solid deck. She heard the wail of sirens, and the yells and grunts of fighting. The nearest warehouse, only fifty yards away, was surrounded by cop cars. Some waited outside each exit, weapons pointed towards the dim interior. Erin made to run towards it, but the water below her welled into a fountain, depositing a beautiful red-headed woman in green armor just in front of her. The water splashed Erin’s legs and feet, but she was already wet from the jet ski.

“I don’t think we’re needed just yet,” the woman said. “Give it a moment.”

“Are you—you must be Mera?”

The woman inclined her head, royally.

“Well, then we need to get in there. Orm might need help! Are you still too angry to—”

Mera winced. “No. Orm is… Orm. Normally I would dive in; I despise waiting on men to solve things. But, will you believe my motive is good? I think it’d be… beneficial for Arthur to be the one who helps Orm this time.”

“Yeah… but… what if he needs more help?”

“Against a few criminals?” Mera smirked. “I don’t think you’ve met my husband.”

 

All the police pointed their weapons at Orm now. Batman’s grip tightened even further. How was the man this strong? Was he inhuman or had Orm been more weakened by the fight than he thought?

“Hold on.” Arthur pointed his trident at Batman and his palm toward the police. “Somebody tell me what’s happening.”

Orm looked to Mr. Arkham. The man had gone from red and sweaty to calm and collected. He took a step toward Arthur, shaking his head. “Your brother—sorry, half-brother—kidnapped me. Brought me here to deliver me to Black Mask and the others.” He shuddered and turned to Orm. “I really thought you were on my side. How could you think you’d get away with this? What did you offer them?”

“What did I offer them?” Orm repeated thunderously. 

The row of guns pointed in his direction shivered with intensity and Batman’s foot landed like a clamp on Orm’s numb leg.

“It’s true,” Arkham said. “Orm plotted this with Black Mask. Orm’s been helping them escape at night and get back in the morning. Until today, when I realized what was happening. I locked down the prison, but I’d already given Orm a passkey. He used it. Decimated the guards.” Arkham rubbed his eyes convincingly. “I was willing to give him a chance when few else would and he betrayed me in less than a month.”

“You’re under arrest,” the police chief said. “Assault and battery. Kidnapping. Illegal entry to private property. Aiding and abetting the escape of convicted felons. Resisting arrest.”

Orm wasn’t an idiot. He glared at Arkham. What game was the man playing? He couldn’t hope to maintain this lie. Orm could prove that Arkham was making this up. Couldn’t he? Evidence, witnesses… he knew how terrestrial investigations were handled.

But still Arkham had betrayed him. Why?

“Was it too tempting?” Orm asked. “You had to have the Ocean Master in your collection?”

Arkham’s smug face made Orm grow cold, despite the blood still pumping hot and fast through his body after the fighting. Arkham looked VERY confident.

“Orm, talk to me,” Arthur snapped. “What happened?”

“Arkham is lying. I came to protect him from all of them,” Orm jerked his head toward the downed criminals. “Just like he paid me to do.”

Arkham laughed incredulously. “That’s why you drug me down here at knife-point? Fine method of protection.”

“I didn’t. This was his plan,” Orm said coldly.

The police chief cautiously approached Arthur, offering a tablet. “Aquaman, right? Listen, we don’t want any trouble with you, but we’ve got your brother on all of it. There’s surveillance footage of him kidnapping Erin Shaw and her son in broad daylight, only hours ago. There’s prison footage of him dragging Arkham into the stairwell and beating the shit out of the guards who tried to stop him. A neighbor confirmed that the gang visited him in his apartment before it all started.”

Orm couldn’t see the tablet from his half-kneeling position at Batman’s feet, but he saw Arthur’s usually sunny face turn dark.

The policeman continued, flicking through videos or pictures that Orm could imagine only too well in his mind. “Mr. Arkham managed to call and alert us to the situation, apparently when your brother was distracted by the woman, Ms. Shaw.”

“I GAVE him the phone,” Orm shouted.

The chief didn’t even answer that one. He flipped through the rest of the pictures and Arthur turned the tablet so Orm could see it. Orm jerking Mr. Arkham into the stairwell, Orm leaning close to Freud before taking him back to his room. There were more photos of him in the prison with various prisoners. They were assignments he’d been sent on by Mr. Arkham, but now it was Orm’s word against his.

Without context, none of the photos proved or disproved Orm’s allegiances, but they certainly looked damning.

Arthur’s eyes were unreadable now.

Mr. Arkham spoke up. “I honestly don’t know what precipitated this. I was worried that he was still thinking about revenge on you, war on the surface… recruiting a new army, perhaps? And then I became concerned about Ms. Shaw and Orm’s obsession with her. I’m, unfortunately, an expert on incipient sociopathic behavior, and I asked my friend here,” he gestured to Batman, “to keep an eye on her. He’s the one who realized Orm was using Black Mask’s gang to keep tabs on her after she kicked him out.”

“None of that happened,” Orm grunted. “They’re lying.”

Batman spoke up from behind him. “Arthur, I saw some of this myself. I hoped this plan would work, but I told you at the time, if he crosses the line…”

“I didn’t,” Orm insisted. “Erin can explain. They’re twisting what happened.”

Mr. Arkham shook his head. “The terrible thing is that she will try to excuse him. Sociopaths are excellent at convincing others of their sincerity. Even when we were both hostages, she believed he was protecting us. Pathological lying is a common trait of such disorders.”

“I’m not a sociopath.” Orm shifted his weight. He was starting to feel his leg again. Pain from the cut was burning up his calf now, but that was good. Soon he’d be able to throw Batman off. “The gang threatened Erin and I had to snatch her to protect her.”

Mr. Arkham laughed. “Not a sociopath? Superficial charm. Manipulative. Grandiose sense of self. Lack of remorse, shame or guilt. Please stop me if it sounds unfamiliar. No, Mr. Curry, the only place for someone like this, other than your own kingdom, is my asylum. I think your first impulse was correct.”

Arthur gestured weakly, as if to deny that he’d ever considered Arkham Asylum for Orm, but the movement was half-hearted. They all knew it was true.

Orm’s adrenaline was beginning to spike again. Somehow Arkham’s plan was working. He was undermining Erin’s testimony. He was twisting every interaction to fit his story. And the only other people who could corroborate Orm’s version of events were the very criminals around them.

 

Erin turned away from Mera. “It’s been too long. I’m going to see what’s happening.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Erin and Mera marched up to the warehouse. The policemen didn’t see them at first, probably not expecting two women to approach from the harbor side.

“Hang on! You can’t go in there. Ma’am! Stop!

A policeman grabbed Mera’s arm, but she slipped away as if she herself was made of water. A wave rose up from the harbor and interposed itself like a wall between the policemen and them, sealing the crushed opening in the wall.

Mera and Erin ghosted forward until they were within earshot of the tense standoff. Erin gasped as she saw Orm at the center of it all. He was held firmly by Batman, and a row of SWAT officers had him in their sights. Erin hadn’t really grasped until now how dangerous Orm must be.

The mountain of a man speaking to the police chief must be Orm’s half-brother, Mera’s husband. He looked pained. Orm looked furious.

Arthur handed the tablet back to the police chief. “Even if Orm has… fallen off the wagon, why on Earth would I return him to Arkham? Apparently you don’t run a very tight ship, dude.”

Erin frowned. Return Orm?

Mr. Arkham drew himself up. “And I take full responsibility for that. I should never have offered Orm the job. It was a mistake and it precipitated this whole fiasco. Now that I know how they’ve been escaping, I can assure you that it’ll be remedied. I have the only facilities that can hold someone like him.”

“No!” Erin yelled. Mera tried to check her, but Erin ran forward. “Orm didn’t help anyone escape. He was trying to help me.”

 

Orm’s eyes snapped up to Erin. She looked utterly incensed. Mera stalked in behind her and Orm grimaced. He wasn’t sure whether she would make things better or worse. She certainly had no reason to believe the best of Orm. Erin on the other hand… She knew what Arkham had done.

“Mr. Arkham is lying.” Erin appealed to both Arthur and the police chief.

Arkham wasn’t rattled. “How convincing, when she doesn’t even know what I’ve said.”

“You’re clearly blaming this breakout on Orm when it was your own shoddy management that allowed it.”

Orm frowned suddenly. “No, not shoddy management. You knew, didn’t you? You knew they could escape since the first breakout, when I intervened. What did you offer them to set me up?” It was all falling into place.

Arkham must have hired Orm with this idea in mind, hence all the photos.

He would’ve realized, either on his own or after exposing Orm to Freud, that if threatened, Orm would make Erin and Tommy disappear. That would establish Orm’s unbalanced mind. He’d probably hoped Erin would be safely hidden away at her parents’ by now, but he’d rolled with the punches when he found her in the van during their escape.

Arkham had also known that Orm wouldn’t leave his boss at the mercy of criminals. He would’ve been certain that Orm would come for him, and that—minus their phone conversation—it would look like a kidnapping. He’d drug his feet in the hall, making sure that Orm would have a hand on him at all times.

And those stupid guards at the prison had only been doing their job!

Then Arkham had convinced Orm to meet up with the criminals after all. Those phone conversations on the train, when he’d been so quite… whispering the word hostage…

“Yes,” Erin muttered, also putting it together. “Orm was going to take us somewhere safe, but Arkham convinced him to meet Black Mask after all. I heard him!”

“I needed to apprehend all of them,” Arkham said simply. “I’ve said I take responsibility, and it is true. Of course I would say whatever I needed to say to make sure that Orm followed his original plan.”

Erin clenched her fists at the sheer, bold, impudence of this, but Orm understood. Arkham was laying it all on the line now. Would they believe Arkham or Erin? Or rather, would they believe Arkham’s all-too-plausible description of Orm’s descent, or Erin’s heartfelt but now questionable defense?

 

Orm looked only at Arthur’s face. Maybe if they had the kind of relationship that brothers ought to have had, this would be easy. If his brother knew him at all, he would know this wasn’t Orm. But… Arthur did not. Their relationship was built on violence and jealousy, misunderstanding and conflict. Their shared grief over their mother had been a wall instead of a bond.

No doubt Arkham had counted on that as well. Black Mask hadn’t been lying that Arkham understood people. The worst kinds of people.

Arthur suddenly laughed. “All this would no doubt be very convincing, except for one thing. Sociopathic Orm would never call me for help.” He held up his cell phone and wagged it in Arkham’s face. “I bet you weren’t counting on that.”

Orm’s breath left him in a rush and he sagged in Batman’s grip. Arthur winked at him. “How stupid do you think I am, bro?”

Orm felt something between a sob and laugh bubble up in his chest. “Fairly stupid, I guess.”

Mr. Arkham took a step back and a moment of surprise flashed in his eyes.

“Arthur,” Batman said warningly.

The police tightened their grips, looking from Batman to Aquaman.

“I’ll throw down for this,” Arthur warned Batman. “Orm is family. We’ll get to the bottom of it, but not with this creep.” He jerked a thumb at Arkham.

“We can’t stand by and let you leave with him,” the police chief said, stepping back and raising his weapon. “Not if we don’t know whether he represents an on-going threat.”

Arthur pushed Erin behind him, out of the line of fire. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for sticking up for my little brother.”

Several things happened at once. Orm sprang to his feet, throwing Batman off of him. Arthur lunged forward, trident spinning and deflecting the bullets fired at Orm. Mera threw her hands up, brought a wall of water, and slammed it into place. It fell between the police and their little group. The bullets choked off, hitting the water wall and making ripples like pebbles.

Arthur turned to Batman and raised his hands. “No hard feelings Bruce, but I’m kinda looking forward to this. I always wondered if I could take you.”

And Mr. Freeze, who’d been lying motionless and forgotten where he’d crumpled, grabbed Erin and backed toward the exit that led to the harbor.

She let out one screech before an ice gag formed across her lips. Her eyes bulged with fear.

Mera brought a water spear toward him at lightning speed, but it froze, cracked, and splintered harmlessly against him like shaved ice.

Orm looked ahead, toward the harbor, but the police there were gone. They must have gone around to another entrance after Mera blocked them out.

 

Erin’s feet slipped and drug as she tried to fight against the much taller and stronger man’s momentum. It was like a nightmare, the ice that cinched her mouth shut and the arm like iron around her torso. If pulling a full-grown woman’s deadweight was slowing him down at all, he didn’t show it.

Erin wished for a moment that she’d stayed safe on the dock with Mera… but no. Even if her support had only reassured Orm’s brother, made him a little more inclined to believe Orm over Arkham, it was worth it.

Orm would figure this out.

 

Orm wasn’t sure what to do. They could easily overpower Mr. Freeze, altogether, but Erin would definitely get hurt in that scenario. Already icicles were forming on her eyelashes and frosty vapor huffed from her nose. Dagger-like ice protrusions grew from Mr. Freeze’s arm, pressing against Erin’s chest and neck.

“You want to know how Arkham got me to help?” Mr. Freeze said. “He threatened my wife. If I refused, she’d be hurt. If I left the city on our nightly assignments, she’d be hurt. If I betrayed him, she’d be hurt. But you know what? Jokes on him. Because last night I finally found her. She died over a year ago.”

Orm kept advancing slowly, but his mind ricocheted backward. He remembered the way Mr. Freeze kept coming for Arkham, even as Orm fought him off. Of all the criminals, Mr. Freeze was the one who HADN’T been pretending. Clayface had been phoning it in—he was harder to beat in that apartment. But Mr. Freeze had WANTED his prize.

“I’ll come back for him,” he said. “Someday when you’re not there to fight for him.”

“We’re on the same side then,” Orm said. “He betrayed me, also.”

“And you’ll let me walk away? I doubt it. And Batman certainly won’t.”

Batman’s hand flicked and a boomerang out, hooking toward Mr. Freeze’s head. Before it could strike, and ice helmet coalesced around his head, leaving holes for his mouth and eyes. The boomerang struck it and clanged off harmlessly.

Mr. Freeze made it to the exit and began to back towards the harbor.

Arthur laughed, a low rumble. “You’re heading toward our territory, man. What’s the plan? You can’t swim away from us.”

“The ocean may laugh at ice,” Mr. Freeze said, “But ice still ends up on top.”

He stepped backward off the edge of the dock. Erin’s eyes clenched shut as she was pulled off with him and disappeared from view.

“Erin!” Orm ran forward. On the surface of the water, Mr. Freeze was skating away from them, freezing patches of ice as he moved. It was impressive and infuriating, as he still clutched Erin.

“Mera, with me! Arthur, activate it when I get to him,” Orm shouted to Arthur, and then dove off the dock into the water.

“Activate what?” Arthur said, blankly.

Orm sliced through the saltwater of the harbor like a shark. Tommy would have loved it, but Orm couldn’t think about Tommy right now. He shot out of the water like a torpedo and struck Mr. Freeze in the back.

All three of them tumbled into the water, that couldn’t be helped. The water was Orm’s element. He needed it.

Orm wrested Erin out of the man’s grip and pushed her up. Mera’s hand was right where he needed it to be and he felt Erin guided to safety.

Mr. Freeze may not have been Atlantean, but water was also his element in a way. Orm didn’t try to fight him, merely clutched him as hard as he could and prayed that Arthur had figured out what he meant. Ice formed around Orm’s head and shoved its way into his nose and mouth. His feet were pulled down as if by anchors and threads of ice bound themselves around his wrist like steel wires, cutting into flesh.  
Come on, Arthur.

When a spine-curving zap of electricity arched from Orm’s ankle through his whole body, he knew his brother had come through.

The electricity flooded through them both, and Orm lost consciousness with his arms still locked around the criminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, I thought this was the end, but... I need to wrap it up more, right?  
> I didn't get my fill of fluff yet. I may add a hurt/comfort tag and do one more chapter.
> 
> Thoughts? I love comments as much as the next writer. :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go... summer is getting away from me, but I wanted to close this off properly. A shorter chapter than normal, but I hope you enjoy it!

Erin was first aware of a wracking cough, then a pounding headache, and finally the warmth of sunlight on her face. It was so warm in fact, that she was afraid she might be getting a sunburn. Had she fallen asleep at the park, watching Tommy or... goodness, where was Tommy? Where was she?

Erin’s eyes flew open. Mera crouched over her, looking shiny and surreal against the backdrop of the New York harbor. Her hand was extended over Erin’s face and a small ball of water hovered there. Mera tossed it away and it landed with a splat on the concrete of the dock.

Erin wrenched herself upright, feeling her mouth with her hands and reliving that moment when Mr. Freeze had iced it over. Her skin was fine and warm, though chapped. Another cough pulled its way out of her lungs and Mera braced her shoulder as she hunched over.

That was when she saw Orm, laid out on the dock nearby. His clothes were soaked, though the Atlantean tunic looked as if it were glistening, while his normal pants and shoes were dark and sopping wet.

Mr. Freeze was nearby. Orm looked as if he were sleeping, but Mr. Freeze was not so lucky. His body was crumpled in a heap, and his head lolled limply to the side.

“Is he... is he...?”

“No,” Mera said. “He’s unconscious but he’s breathing.”

Arthur looked up. “If she’s alright, do the water thing on him next.”

Mera grimaced. “Arthur, he doesn’t have that much water in his lungs. And he’s an enemy.”

Arthur gave her a look and she stood. “Fine.”

She stretched her hand out over Mr. Freeze and un-gently yanked the water out of his lungs. His whole body twitched and jumped a bit as it splashed out of his nose like a horrendous sneeze. Mera directed it away from herself. “There.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said.

“You’re too compassionate,” Mera said, as if this was an ongoing conversation they had. “It’ll get you in trouble someday.”

“As long as you’re there to save me.”

Mera rolled her eyes.

“How is Orm?” Erin cut in.

Arthur raised his eyelids for a moment, and then felt his pulse. “I don’t know. I’m not a nurse. I didn’t even know what would happen if I activated his tracker. The idiot wouldn’t wait until I could figure out another plan to save you...” His voice sounded rough but affectionate.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Mera said. “Atlanteans can take a lot. That jolt was enough to knock our friend here senseless for some time, but Orm should come out of it soon enough.”

“The thing in his ankle?” Erin confirmed. “That’s what took them down?”

They both looked at her. “You know about that?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah?” Erin said tentatively, with another cough. “Should I not? Just say the word, I can be extremely forgetful.”

Arthur grinned. “No, it’s fine. I’m just wondering under what circumstances you would have seen my extremely up-tight little brother’s ankle...”

Erin blushed, even though, YIKES they were only talking about his ankle. “We all went swimming last week, in a lake not the ocean,” she added quickly, “though I actually didn’t notice it until he explained and pointed it out.”

“Who is you all?” Mera clarified.

“My son Tommy and Orm and I.”

Mera lifted an eyebrow. “Unexpected.”

“Well...” Erin trailed off. She didn’t feel able or willing to explain herself and Orm to them right now. Erin heaved herself up and went to kneel by Orm. He looked as if he were only sleeping. His mouth parted slightly. His eyelids moved gently as if he were dreaming.

Then suddenly he lunged upward, saying something confused about the fight. Erin had been leaning over him and he grabbed her as if he’d been cornered by an enemy.

Arthur and Mera flinched, with identical looks of chagrin on their faces, but Erin didn’t try to pull away.

“Orm, it’s okay. Look, he’s down. I’m right here, I’m fine.”

Without letting go, Orm’s arms shifted into an embrace. He wrapped one around her waist and his other hand came up to stroke her wet tangled hair as she buried her face in his shoulder. “Erin. I’m so sorry. Arkham played me. Went right into his trap. You should never— “

“It was my own fault I came back,” Erin said. “Not yours.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, I appreciated not having to base my entire trust on one five-word voicemail. Nice I wasn’t the only one sticking up for this idiot.”

Orm tensed a little, and Erin chuckled, knowing what he was thinking. “For a lot of guys, that’s a term of endearment,” she whispered.

Mera laughed. Erin had forgotten their excellent hearing.

Arthur shook his head. “She’s wrong, bro. No terms of endearment here. What do you think I am?”

Erin coughed explosively again, and Orm loosened his hold.

“You’re not alright.”

She wiped her watering eyes. “Nah, this is just what happens when we ordinary mortals try to breathe the ocean.”

“I’ll take you home. I’ll just— “

 

Orm broke off, looking at the bemused expressions on Arthur and Mera’s faces. “Am I free to go?” Orm asked. He finally looked back towards the warehouse. “Did the police get the others? Arkham?”

Arthur moved his head equivocally. “Batman caught up to Arkham before he could get too far. The others were neutralized. But... I think they’ve got some questions for you.”

Orm sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, getting it out of his eyes. “Of course they do.”

Orm only wanted to get out of this awful place with Erin. To go somewhere where he could be away from his brother’s eyes and contemplate the good fortune that had kept Erin from serious harm... But then it wasn’t just good fortune, was it? Orm was nothing if not scrupulously honest about giving credit where it was due.

“Arthur,” he said, somewhat painfully, “I ought to... thank you. I do thank you. For coming when I needed help and believing me when the evidence said you shouldn’t.”

Arthur waved a hand. “Please. Don’t get all emotional. That’s what family is for.”

Orm nodded, knowing this casual dismissal hid a host of meaning. They were indeed family.

And Arthur should probably learn, as a king, how to take and receive thanks with dignity. Orm’s fastidious soul was constantly irked by Arthur’s off-handedness, but then Rome wasn’t built in a day.

“Alright,” Orm said, turning to business. “There are questions.”

“I should probably go. I need to let Tommy and my mother know everything is fine,” Erin said.

Orm tightened his grip on her hand, not wanting to lost sight of her just yet. He hadn’t even realized he was holding her hand until then.

Arthur grinned. “It would help if you stuck around for a bit as well. It seems you are one of the only witnesses to several of the accusations.”

“Oh. Of course! I’ll just give them a quick call.”

 

Orm was forced to let go of Erin’s hand as they were escorted to the police station, interrogated, and processed separately. He believed that Erin was safe, but some protective instinct had kicked in when Mr. Freeze grabbed her and he was having trouble turning it off.

 

Erin, for her part, found she was being treated as a victim, and it took some time to convince the police that she wasn’t defending Orm out of fear.

(“You know you’re safe now, ma’am... You don’t ever have to see him again... You don’t have to say that; he can’t hear you... If you need help, we can find you another place to stay...”)

It was exhausting. Eventually however, they had to let her go. Erin leaned against the wall outside the police station. It was fully dark now; it must be close to midnight.

Arthur had told her they’d be out soon if she wanted to wait—which sent the police into another round of warning her that she didn’t have to go with any of them—so she waited out of sight of the front doors.

When Arthur and Orm finally made an appearance, Erin was nearly asleep on her feet.

Arthur seemed as energetic as ever, but Orm was showing the effects of near-suffocation and electrocution. His eyes were red and weariness was evident in his face.

Arthur slapped him on the shoulder. “Alright. I think you’re all clear. It’s damn good that Batman heard Mr. Freeze confess or else I’d be worried he’d be after you next. As it is... well, I guess I’ll see you the next time your life goes to hell.”

“That does seem to be our pattern,” Orm agreed quietly.

Arthur laughed loudly. “Later, dude.”

He jogged off in the direction of the harbor and Erin and Orm stared after him for a minute.

 

Orm turned to Erin. She looked beautiful, but also awful. She was wearing some random dry clothes she’d been provided with and her hair was a snarl. Her lips were dry and chapped and she kept coughing into her baggy sleeve.

“What now? Tommy?” Orm asked, knowing her condition would make no difference to her duty to her son.

Erin took his hand absently and started walking toward the subway station. “No. I called my mom hours ago and asked if he could stay the night. I’d only scare them if I showed up now.”

Orm relished the feeling of her warm hand in his. He wondered if she knew how much he needed it.

“Oh.”

“I just want to go home and take some Tylenol and collapse.”

Erin seemed surprised on the train, when she realized she was still holding his hand, but Orm just laced their fingers together and leaned his head back against the window.

He walked her up to her apartment, wondering how he would walk away when she said goodnight. He was seriously pondering whether he might sleep outside the door if Erin didn’t invite him to stay in the office again, and whether the neighbors would call the police if he did. He just couldn’t bear to leave her alone so soon after he’d almost... almost lost her.

He knew, in the sane part of his mind, that she wasn’t his to lose. But it sure didn’t feel like that.

At her door, Erin fumbled with the keys until Orm took them from her and did it himself. He tossed the keys onto the side table where she always kept them.

“I’ll just get some water for us both,” Orm said. He guided Erin to the couch where she sank down and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead with a grimace.

Orm filled two glasses and fished out some pills for her. She must have the devil of a headache from passing out and who knew what other aches and pains.

He brought them to her, and watched as she threw them back and drained her glass.

Orm removed it from her loose grip and put it on the table. He moved more and more slowly but finally there was nothing left to do but open the front door and leave.

Erin opened her eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I thought I should— since you didn’t ask— “

Erin shook her head and then winced. “Are you kidding? Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

Orm slammed the door with relief. He dropped down on the couch next to Erin and carefully pulled her across his lap, pressing his face to her neck and breathing her in. “Good.”

Erin wiggled until she was comfortable, leaning her head against his chest, pillowing her cheek on her hand. “I’m not saying,” she said sleepily, “that this changes everything... but... for tonight...”

Orm didn’t care what happened tomorrow. For tonight it was enough that he could hold onto Erin while they both slept.

 

Erin didn’t want to move when she woke up. A dim light was coming in the living room window, which meant it must be before six.

Orm’s chest rose and fell under her ear, and she could hear his heartbeat. They’d stretched out on the couch at some point. She vaguely remembered being lifted and turned, and his whispered reassurance in her ear when she startled.

Erin hadn’t woken up snuggled next to a man since her husband died. It was a wonderful feeling. It was a warm, solid promise that she wouldn’t face the day alone. That she could share her burdens and her thoughts and her laughter with someone...

Erin sighed sharply. This would be very easy to get used to. Too easy.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, Erin began to ease herself off of Orm, trying not to wake him. Her husband, when he slept at home on leave, had been a heavy sleeper. Perhaps she expected that of Orm too, but his arms, which had been lying loose by his sides, cinched around her waist. “No,” he mumbled.

Erin patted his hands. “I should probably...”

“No,” he said again, a little more distinctly. She tilted her head up to look at him and he kissed her hair. His blue eyes were only half-open. “You’ll go back to normal today. Pick up where you left off before all this craziness. And then you won’t stay here with me.”

He twisted to his side and—there was no other word for it—cuddled her against him.

It’s not that she wasn’t comfortable. She was. Too much so.

“Orm. I was exhausted last night, and you’re a good friend, but now that—“

“When I’m fully awake, we can have that conversation.”

“You are totally awake.”

He remained resolutely silent and Erin squirmed a little but wasn’t resolute enough to really break away.

She lay there listening to him breath and before she knew it, she was waking up again.

Apparently she COULD fall back asleep, if the conditions were right.

The light was higher and brighter from the window. And Orm was still tucked behind and half over her.

She wasn’t sure what had startled her awake, until she heard another knock on her front door.

Erin groaned and rolled off the edge of the couch, one hand on the coffee table to push herself up.

Orm sighed. “I suppose we cannot ignore that?” He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“No,” Erin said. She looked through the peephole. Tommy. And her mother. “Oh, man.”

She swung the door open, “Tommy!” He launched himself at her in a tight hug. “Hi Mom!”

“I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I would’ve come to pick him up.”

Her mother hugged her a little more sedately but hung on for an extra-long moment. “I didn’t mind. You sounded last night like you could use the rest. And I don’t know what you’ve been telling Tommy, but I got an earful.”

“Orm! Are you okay?” Tommy broke in. “Mom said everything is alright and the whole thing was easily wrapped up, but I-I think she just said that so we wouldn’t worry.”

Orm swung Tommy up to give him a proper hug. “No, it’s true. It was—fairly—easily wrapped up. Just one greedy man who got out of hand, you might say.”

Tommy looked disappointed. “Really? That’s it?”

Orm put Tommy back on the floor and extended his hand to Erin’s mom. “My name is Orm Marius. It’s wonderful to meet Erin’s mother.”

Erin couldn’t help but smirk at the suddenly formal tone, incongruous with his rumpled appearance and wrinkled clothes. Nor did she expect it to ‘work’ on her mother, who was a typical skeptical New Yorker.

But her mother only sized him up for a moment before shaking his hand. “And I’m Marie. It’s a pleasure to meet Erin’s...” she trailed off questioningly.

“Friend,” Orm finished.

“Hm.” Marie’s eyes quickly bounced from one to the other and then around the apartment. “Well. Doesn’t look like either of you have had breakfast or even coffee. I’ll start something.”

As she went to the kitchen, she called back, “No offense, but both of you could use a shower. And Erin, WHAT are you wearing?”

“Oh, it’s just...I was wet at the police station so— “

Another knock at the door interrupted her. Who else would show up unannounced? Frowning slightly, Erin opened the door again.

 

Orm suffered a severe shock on seeing his mother, Atlanna, at the door. She was dressed in regular surface clothing, though she somehow looked as regal as ever in her boots and plain clothes. She smiled graciously at Erin and gestured at Orm. “I am so sorry to intrude, but Arthur told me what happened yesterday and I just had to see Orm. I hope you are all well after that unfortunate adventure.”

Erin looked between the two of them, understanding dawning slowly in her eyes.

“My mother,” Orm confirmed. He performed the introductions, but couldn’t shake a feeling of unreality. Marie seemed a little standoffish, but when Atlanna explained how she’d driven down overnight from Maine, she softened. And when Atlanna humbly asked to help make breakfast for everyone— “only right since I showed up without any warning!”—she thawed quite a bit.

Erin went to take a shower, and Orm, unsure how to deal with the two ladies in the kitchen, sat back down on the couch. Tommy snuggled in next to him and demanded a full account of the previous day. Knowing it was inevitable, Orm carefully chose the simplest parts of the story. He could feel the attention of the ladies in the kitchen as well. He explained the prison breakout, Arkham being a surprisingly mean guy, and yes, even Batman had helped them out.

Tommy sighed in satisfaction. “That is so cool.”

Erin had come out from the shower, looking much more like her normal self, and she chimed in, “I even met Aquaman. Sadly, not Batman. He was busy.”

“What was Aquaman like?”

Erin smiled at Orm. “Kinda loud. Friendly though. Rather too big and hairy for me.”

Atlanna coughed in the kitchen, but it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Orm stood abruptly. “I’ll get my shower now.”

 

Atlanna and Marie wouldn’t let Erin help with breakfast, so she just hovered nearby while they made pancakes and eggs. She wasn’t sure what she expected from Orm’s mother... the poor woman had been living a life of survival in the trench for the past fifteen years. She’d been the wife of both a king and a lighthouse keeper. Her two sons went to war against each other barely more than a year ago.

Yet here she was asking if they liked cheese on their scrambled eggs. She was definitely elegant and regal in her bearing, the resemblance to Orm was noticeable. But she was also humble and easy-going in a way that was her own. She was a woman who’d learned the world could and would go on without her, and now she seemed to appreciate every moment with joy.

Orm and Tommy were still on the couch, Tommy had turned on his favorite ocean documentary, and Orm’s arm was draped over his shoulders while they watched.

Every now and then Atlanna would glance at them and there was a suspicious sparkle like tears in her eyes.

Marie also looked at times, but her face was torn between doubt and grudging approval.

“Tommy has been nuts for the ocean for a year now,” Marie commented. “I’m hoping he’ll discover the rainforest or arctic soon.”

Atlanna smiled a little, expertly flipping golden pancakes off the griddle. “Orm was the same way. He never grew out of it though.”

“Nice of him to indulge Tommy. From what I hear, nobody knows more than your son about all things aquatic. Did he plan to be a marine biologist or some such thing?”

Atlanna’s face shadowed. “More of a... conservationist. And what about Erin? She’s in real estate in New York City, what an accomplishment!”

Erin couldn’t help asking, “Did Orm tell you that... or...?”

Atlanna had the grace to blush as she betrayed her son’s confidence, “Oh. Well, of course. I mean, he mentioned your name when you first met at an open house, so...”

Erin bit back a slightly hysterical laugh at the radical understatement of their first meeting.

“And then of course,” Atlanna continued, “we talked when you let him stay with you... which was excessively kind while he was stuck without a place to stay.”

Erin still couldn’t picture Orm opening up much beyond her name and laughed at the idea of herself being googled by the freaking Queen of Atlantis.

Erin’s mom piled scrambled eggs in a bowl. “I was just hearing about that stay from Tommy,” Marie commented dryly. “Didn’t mention it to me at the time, did you?”

Erin smiled weakly. 

Atlanna came to her rescue. “Pancakes are done!”

 

They all sat around the table to eat and Erin couldn’t help but feel like both Atlanna and her mother’s eyes were glued to every move she made. Orm couldn’t pass her the salt without their eyes tracking it.

Marie asked Atlanna about her home in Maine.

“My husband, Tom, is the lighthouse keeper. He’s a homebody, always tinkering... adding shelves, fixing hinges, woodworking. It’s an unexciting life, but I love it.”

Erin noticed Orm looking uncomfortable, maybe sad, and used the moment of distraction to quickly squeeze his hand under the table.

Marie nodded. “I know what you mean. Tommy is all the excitement I need these days. I was happy to leave the city behind when I retired.”

Tommy grinned around a mouthful of pancake. “But I like excitement. I didn’t even tell you about Orm saving the guy in the sailboat.”

Tommy told a rather brightly colored version of the story. Atlanna glowed with pleasure.

Was Orm blushing?

 

“It was nothing,” Orm said. “We were right there. I helped. Breakfast is wonderful, thank you,” he added, hoping to change the subject.

But even that small evidence of good manners was enough to keep his mother looking at him with that lingering proud glow in her eyes, and he could not take it.

He wanted to tell her, “No, you’re getting the wrong impression from Tommy. I’m still who I was a year ago. I only helped those people because Erin asked and I only fought Arkham and the others because they threatened her...”

He had had many conversations with her in the first six months of his imprisonment. Her gaze then had been characterized by love, guilt, and, inevitably, disappointment.

He found her manner today far more unsettling. Thankfully the conversation moved on.

He was quite sure Atlanna had seen Erin briefly hold his hand and that she was drawing her own conclusions from the whole situation.

No doubt she was thrilled that he’d found his own surface dweller to fall in love with... because he WAS in love with Erin. He’d offered her marriage but hadn’t really thought deeply about love, he realized now. Marriage for him was about commitment and honor and livelihood and partnership. And he’d offered Erin that, hoping that a new, better alliance would help him commit to the new life he wanted to live.

He’d found her attractive, of course, almost immediately. But now... he was definitely in love with her.

And as he thought of being forcibly removed from Erin and Tommy, unable to say goodbye or even promise that he would return, he felt the first flickering of true empathy for his mother and her human husband.

“Orm? Did you hear?” Tommy asked.

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Your mom asked if you wanted to show her your place before she goes home.”

“Oh. Yes, Mother. Of course.”

She smiled, thankfully, as if she’d thought he might rebuff her.

Marie was sizing him up again, as if judging his soul was possible over a late morning meal.

Orm stood. “I can wash up since you both made the meal.” He piled empty plates and then retreated to the kitchen, snagging Tommy to help rinse and dry.

He heard Marie whisper to Erin, “Is he just doing that because I’m here?”

“No, Mom, he often does the dishes.”

“Hm.”

 

Orm left with Atlanna soon after. It was a thousand times more awkward without the buffer of others.

“You didn’t need to come,” Orm said. “Though I appreciate the thought.”

“I know you don’t need me,” Atlanna said gently. “I’m glad you don’t. You’re a man who can take care of himself in any world. But I need you, and Arthur. I came for me.”

“You can’t... you can’t expect me to have a perfect life after everything that happened,” Orm said after a pause, trying to put his disordered thoughts into words. He led his mother the scant block to his own apartment and up the three flights of stairs. “You looked so happy there in Erin’s place... but I need you to understand that it could all disappear in a moment. It could disappear due to MY faults. I can barely stand the thought on my own account, but if you’re invested as well... I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Atlanna thought before replying, while Orm unlocked his door.

The apartment was dark and a little musty. Orm flicked on a light and opened a window. He didn’t like to use the window AC if he could avoid it.

His mother smiled a little at the space that he’d made for himself. Most of his furniture was dark blue or aqua or green... colors of the ocean.

“Orm. I know better than anyone that things don’t always last. I hope, for your own sake, that things here with Erin and Tommy go well. But I take life as it comes. I’m not counting on anything.” Orm wondered how much of this philosophy had always been his mother, and how much was the Trench.

She continued, “that being said, I deserve the right to “invest” myself in whatever please. It’s not worth staying detached to avoid pain.”

Orm stilled. “Isn’t it?” he all but whispered.

“No. Definitely not.”

 

Erin’s conversation with her mom was shorter. When her mom hugged her goodbye, she patted Erin’s back. “You could do worse. He does the dishes and he smells like the sea. I was always partial to that.”

 

Erin spent some quality time with Tommy that afternoon. He’d, thankfully, been shielded from most of the actual danger, but she could tell there was some lingering tension, even with his sunny personality.

And when he asked her for the fourth time that evening whether she’d locked the door, she wanted to cry.

“It is, I promise. We’re fine. I told you earlier that Orm texted me- they figured out how those guys got out and it’s not going to happen again.”

Orm had said more than that, explaining that they now knew from Arkham’s records that his contractor had been paid off by Black Mask to build a tunnel behind the high security cells. Arkham hadn’t discovered this until the first breakout—which Orm had thwarted. Then, through a use of bribery and threats Arkham allowed them to continue using the tunnel at night, provided they come back every morning and help him frame Orm.

It made Erin’s flesh creep to think of how long those men had been tracking him, and through him, her and Tommy.

With those unpleasant thoughts, and lingering stress, she and Tommy has an awful night. First, Erin couldn’t fall asleep, and when she finally did, Tommy woke up soaked in sweat from a nightmare. Then he wanted to sleep in her bed, which he hadn’t done in a long time, but he tossed and turned so much that Erin finally went to the couch. And sleeping on the couch made her think of Orm, which also kept her from sleeping. At 5 in the morning, she broke down and texted him. “Can’t sleep. Are you awake yet?”

She hit send and almost immediately heard a muted ding just outside her front door. Wondering if she was imagining things, Erin unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Orm leaned against the wall between her apartment and the next. He was standing, but she had the impression he’d just gotten to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” Erin whispered. She did not want to wake Tommy, who was finally resting quietly.

Orm sort of shrugged, stiffly. And he would be stiff if he’d been sitting here all night like she suspected.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said softly. “Not... so far away.”

“Do you...” she gestured for him to come in and stood back to let him pass, “Do you have reason to think we’re still in danger? The prison?”

 

A manipulative part of Orm wanted to say yes. Yes, there is still danger so I should definitely be here. But the honest part of him could not do it. He shut the door behind him. “The police are doing everything they can, and Batman is keeping a sharp lookout until every nook and cranny is filled with concrete.”

Erin looked puzzled. “So, then...?”

“I failed to protect you and Tommy before. I believe things are under control, but the least I can do is make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Erin hunched a little, hugging herself in her blue t-shirt and pajama pants. “I will admit, both Tommy and I were a little uneasy.”

Orm had heard. He’d clenched his fist a little tighter each time Tommy asked if the door was locked. He’d hoped Erin would call him at some point. Surely, if they were both still recovering, still afraid, he was the one she would turn to? He’d gotten that far, hadn’t he?

It had hurt that his phone remained silent all evening and night, while she sought to reassure Tommy in a none-too-steady voice.

“Maybe you could stay in the office again,” Erin said slowly. “For a little while. A few days.”

Orm didn’t like the reluctance in her voice—was she still so hesitant about him?—but he wouldn’t sacrifice the opportunity for his pride’s sake.

“Maybe that would be best,” was all he replied.

Erin nodded. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself or with him.

It had been so simple for a little while, but with the return of normalcy came the return of restrictions.

Orm wanted to crush those restrictions beneath his heel— whether they were the result of social constraint or peer pressure or even her personal caution. But he restrained himself to only touching her face with one hand. “I love you.”

Erin jerked away from his hand as if it were a live wire. “No, you don’t. I mean—crap, I know it’s rude to deny your feelings that way, but you don’t know me that well.”

“No,” Orm countered this time, grabbing her hand, “you don’t know ME that well. I have a reputation for... intensity, but that’s only what people perceive. What I really have is determination. What I care about, I protect. What I love, I defend. You are brave, hard-working, and patient. You are capable and bold, but also lonely. Also vulnerable. And based on how impossible it is for me to leave you unguarded, I know that I love you.”

 

Erin looked at his hand, gripping hers, his long fingers quivering with controlled strength lest he accidentally hurt her.

His words were sweeping away her last barriers. If this wasn’t a valid invitation to let go of her reservations and fears, what was?

Erin reached up to put her hand on his smooth cheek (as she’d wanted to almost since she meet him). “I believe you. I’m not sure I’m ready to say the same, though I do care about you very much,” she stroked his cheek with her thumb, “but I’m willing to start here and see where things—“

Erin was cut off as Orm kissed her. Unlike the one other time he’d kissed her like this, he wasn’t desperate. This was not a life-implosion kiss, it was a thankful kiss. It was full of relief, and want, and hope. He turned them so her back was to the door, his hands on her face and in her hair. He was passionate but also careful, and as such... Erin finally stopped analyzing, and enjoyed herself.

 

Tommy woke up not much later, and Orm spent most of the day walking on air. (Which was an odd phrase people on the surface used, but now he understood the analogy.)

Knowing that Erin had accepted him, that she wanted him, both as a man and as a support in her life, felt right. It felt as if something in his life that was broken, that had ached for so long he’d forgotten it shouldn’t hurt, had been healed. Or perhaps that was too strong— it had been splinted, at the very least, and was on the way toward wellness. Orm was too cautious to assume the present happiness would last forever, but was willing to live in the present moment.

Because in the present moment, today, he got to put his arm around Erin whenever he wanted.

Today, he got to help shoulder the burden of caring for Tommy. (He wasn’t sure when the desire to lift her burdens had gotten so strong, but he was conscious of it all the time.)

Today, he got to take them out to eat. (Where Erin reached out and held his hand on the table, just because she wanted to.)

Today, he got to put Tommy to bed and promise that he’d be nearby.

Today, he got to start a new and better chapter of his life... one that he would never have imagined when he was obsessed with being the Ocean Master.

He was master of nothing and no one now, and happier than he’d ever been in his life... because, as it turned out, love was far better than mastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Farewell friends! Thanks for indulging some Ocean Master fanfic with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, shoot. That was supposed to be a one-shot, but it sure isn't. Updates to come.... probably not regularly, but I'll try to finish it!


End file.
